


Figure My Heart Out

by gaylovecanpiercetheveilofdeath



Category: Mr. Robot (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Anxiety, Depression, Elliot will probably be asexual, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Tyrell and Elliot fix each other, broken Elliot, broken Tyrell, protective/possesive tyrell, rich Tyrell, yep Elliot's asexual
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-19
Updated: 2017-11-15
Packaged: 2018-07-25 08:46:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 26,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7526176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaylovecanpiercetheveilofdeath/pseuds/gaylovecanpiercetheveilofdeath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>High School AU<br/>Elliot is in the midst of the anxiety-ridden and lonely years of high school. Upon discovering the charismatic Tyrell, he is intrigued by the wrongness that seems to surround a son of the millionaire banker and the emptiness in his smile. </p><p>WIP<br/>(will also be given regular grammar updates, never fear)</p><p>Currently being translated into Russian (thank you stacie di) : https://ficbook.net/readfic/4827080</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have noticed a lack of Tyrelliot chaptered and high school fics. I want to change that.  
> Please give me feedback so I know whether or not to keep this going. This is just the set up (obviously)  
> Comment, Kudos, or do whatever you'd like.  
> Thanks,  
> me

High school, Elliot decided, was not worth the hype. Everything here was meaningless. The people, the drama, the taunts. Nothing here mattered. Everything was masked in a shade of bullshit. Prom, football games, and pep rallies held a level of palpable fakeness, leaving a horrible taste on his tongue. They all tried to mask the angst, pain, and self-loathing that lurked within the school but ultimately failed. Desperation seemed to cling to the walls of the school, constantly growing and thriving. 

The head cheerleader for one was anorexic. Elliot had hacked into her phone and computer the first semester of his sophomore year. It had actually been an accident when he found out. He had just been looking for information about his Chemistry homework and hacking simply canceled out the option for social interaction. What he found instead was an incriminating search history and emails to her psychiatrist.

The valedictorian of last year was a drug dealer. He didn't do drugs himself but sold for money. His parents were poor and couldn't afford to pay his boarding and book fees at Harvard. Again, desperation. It seemed to latch onto everyone. 

The principal wasn't even clean. Everyone was too easy. They were transparent and, therefore, easy to hack. They were all secretly empty.

This was Elliot’s life. He hacked, slept, did schoolwork, and repeated the cycle. He had a few friends. Well, Angela was more of an acquaintance. She had been his friend in elementary school, but ever since she had started dating her douche of a boyfriend, she had become an annoyance. It didn’t bother Elliot much. She used to force him into socializing. He figured he could also count Darlene as a friend despite the fact that she was his sister. A year older, she and Elliot differed in every way possible. She was popular, Elliott was not. She liked parties, Elliot did not. Still, Darlene remained the only honest and constant person in Elliot’s life. Her boyfriend and his ridiculous Dark Army had separated them for a couple of weeks now. Elliot was fairly alone. 

Elliot did have parents. His mom was an alcoholic and chronic smoker. She was cruel and unaffectionate, treating both Elliot and Darlene like strangers. His dad was a technician and worked all the time. He had been kind when Elliot was younger, but he had grown tired over the years and just stopped trying with his children.

So Elliot came from a broken home. He didn’t advertise it. He covered the cigarette burns that his mom sometimes left on his arms in her drunk rages with the long sleeves of his sweatshirts. There was nothing he could do about the dark circles. They would always remain as Elliot kept his insomniac routine. It didn’t matter. Elliot’s sleepless nights served as his emotional release. He would cry until he couldn’t stop, scratch his arms until they burned red, and scream into the pillow. It wasn’t healthy, he knew, but it would get him through the next day.

There was one another constant thing in his life other than Darlene, his pain, and insomnia. That thing was Tyrell Wellick, son of millionaires Carter and Sharon Wellick. Carter Wellick was some sort of banker or something (Elliott didn’t care that much) which allowed him to buy a total of thirteen cars and five different houses. To the average person, Tyrell seemed just as you’d expect him to be: well-dressed, popular, and social. He was personable, charming, and handsome - the perfect person to take over his father’s job and take any girl (or boy) home. However, Elliot saw something different in Tyrell. He didn’t know what it was exactly. He would watch him at lunch sometimes and watch the young boy smile and laugh at something his lunch mates said. There was something wrong with that smile. It wasn’t the normal fakeness that everyone else seemed to have. This wasn’t just pain. There was also something in his body language. His back was too rigid, and his eyes seemed too strained. 

Elliott just didn’t understand him. He had hacked him numerous times. Every social media website and personal account brought up nothing. He was clean. Too clean. His image appeared to be perfectly crafted, without flaw and without error. Yet something was hiding in the midst of pictures with friends and family on his Facebook and Instagram pages. This wasn’t truth; this was a lie, merely a cover-up. 

Why would he need to lie? What was he hiding?

Elliott couldn't deny that Tyrell was physically appealing. He would have to be completely blind to not notice that. He obviously cared about his appearance as everything about him was meticulous. His clothes had no wrinkles and always happened to be on trend. He never once had a hair out of place. Even his nails were a perfectly manicured length and never seemed to be dirty. They contrasted greatly with Elliot's own bitten nails that had turned to stubs. 

It was all wrong. His wrongness haunted Elliott. Instead of crying at night, he took to thinking of Tyrell and his empty smiles. No matter how much he thought about him or how many times he hacked his personal accounts, nothing came up. Ever. It was impossible. Everyone had something. Someone like Tyrell should have numerous things on him. Half of the people he hung out with were either into child pornography or drugs. Even his father, Carter Wellick himself, appeared to have a mistress on the side. Elliott would have felt bad if he hadn't also found out that Sharon was also having an affair. With another woman. Everything that surrounded Tyrell was unclean and dirty yet he remained spotless. It was as if he was standing in a body of water but somehow remained completely dry.

Tyrell's cleanliness, in some ways, gave Eliott's mind relief. Nothing was obvious about him. He was a breath of clean air, a glass of cold water. Everything in Elliot's mind was so chaotic and jumbled, but Tyrell remained stable and constant. Always there. Always the same with his wrongness. 

____________________________________________

Elliott sat in his statistics class, waiting anxiously for the teacher to arrive and just shut everyone up. He sat alone of course at the very back of the room. Class participation was abhorrent. Surrounded by empty desks, Elliott continued to stare down at the whiteness of his notebook's pages, resigning himself to the boredom he would have to face. 

All of the sudden, he heard the sound of a chair scraping the floor next to him. Elliot's blood rushed to his ears. No one ever sat with him. Everyone knew not to sit with him as his isolated and outwardly hostile appearance perpetually suggested. 

Elliot didn't dare look to see who it was

"Bonsoir," a soft voice said.

Elliot's head shot up.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! A few things....  
> 1\. Thank you all for being so amazing. Your comments/kudos are greatly appreciated, and the feedback has been wonderful.  
> 2\. I edited the last chapter for mistakes. My computer had spelled Elliot's name wrong, and I hadn't noticed (huge oops). If you see grammar mistakes, don't hesitate to let me know.  
> 3\. Please continue the feedback. I'm not really sure where this story is going so feel free to offer up any personality traits or plot developments you'd like (open to anything)  
> 4\. Elliot's anxiety/thought process is based on my own experience as well as some of his thinking in the show. Please don't take any offense or judge too critically. I'm trying to keep the show in mind for most characterisation. 
> 
> Anyways, enjoy the longer chapter! And thanks again.

last chapter snippet:

"All of the sudden, he heard the sound of a chair scraping the floor next to him. Elliot's blood rushed to his ears. No one ever sat with him. Everyone knew not to sit with him as his isolated and outwardly hostile appearance perpetually suggested.

Elliot didn't dare look up to see who it was. 

"Bonsoir," a soft voice said. 

Elliot's head shot up. 

 

********************************************************************************************************************************************************

As Elliot's head shot up, he was met with the sight of blue eyes. He knew those eyes. Petrified with fear, Elliot stayed frozen, stuck peering into the orbs of the very boy who had been consuming his sleepless nights. And who apparently knew French.  
Tyrell let out a soft laugh as he set his bag down on the floor 

"I didn't mean to startle you. Tyrell Wellick," the blue-eyed boy said, forgoing the handshake that typically accompanied every introduction. Elliot was glad. He didn't like unnecessary touches. 

Instead of replying, Elliot decided to stare at the boy for a few more seconds. Did he have a desire to be liked by everyone? Was that his flaw? It was a common human error. No. That wasn't it. If that were true, he wouldn't be associating himself with Elliot in the first place. 

"I know you're probably wondering what I'm doing here," Tyrell started conversationally, simultaneously reading Elliot's mind and ignoring the one-sidedness of the conversation. "I've been watching you."

Elliot inhaled deeply after Tyrell finished, feeling an onslaught of panic. Oh god. Tyrell must know that Elliot had been watching him. Shit. That wasn't how this was supposed to go. He knew Elliot was a freak. Elliot could see it in his eyes. He knew how messed up he was. He knew about the hacking. What if he had let Elliot hack him? Oh god. Freak, freak, freak, freak his mind repeated.

Luckily the statistics teacher took that moment to stroll into the classroom, mumbling some pathetic excuse for why she was late. Elliot knew she had been having sex with the computer graphics teacher just moments before as had been their routine for the last six months. They liked to film themselves and weren't discrete about the placement of their videos. It was disgusting. 

The momentary distraction was enough to distract Elliot's mind and calm his panic. He was free for now. 

As the teacher began to set up her things and start the lesson, Elliot hesistantly allowed his eyes to fall on Tyrell who appeared to be examining the board. He looked more immaculate up close. No stubble or facial hair. No moles or freckles. No wrinkles or frown lines. He was just a sea of flawless pale skin. It was unnerving. 

Elliot was so consumed by his staring that didn’t notice that the object of his stares had started to stare back. This time there was no soft laugh or words. Tyrell simply kept staring at Elliot, unabashed. It wasn't his empty-eyed stare that he always seemed to direct towards his friends. This stare was one of curiosity. 

Elliot anxiously played with the sleeves of his hoodie and looked down into his lap. Why was Tyrell staring at him? He should have introduced himself. Shit. It was too late for that. Tyrell probably thought he was rude. Or just weird. He wouldn’t be the first. Darlene had told him he needed to be more assertive, but he couldn’t help it. She would be so disappointed. He should have listened to her. She always seemed to be right. 

Suddenly, Elliot felt a light pressure on one of his clothed wrists, stopping his fingers from balling up his sleeves. His mind stopped. He stared at the perfect nails and milky white skin that seemed to contrast with the darkness of his hoodie. Cautiously, Elliot raised his eyes to meet Tyrell's. Despite Elliot’s gaze, he hadn’t moved his fingers from where they were placed on Elliot's wrist.

His fingers stayed there for a few more moments until a kid decided to have a coughing fit, and Tyrell slowly retracted his hand. Elliot found himself missing the contact which was strange. He had never liked touching before. This made no sense. 

Deep in thought, Elliot lost track of time and was surprised when he began to hear students packing up their things. The class appeared to be over. As Elliot began to grab his notebook, the bell shrieked sharply, and everyone began the process of moving out of the classroom. 

Slowly standing up, Elliot became of hyper aware of Tyrell who was taking his time to gather his things. Elliot used this time to further observe the other boy. After he had gotten everything, Tyrell looked up to meet Elliot's eyes.

"Sorry if I came off too strong,” Tyrell calmly states, ignorant of the turmoil going through the other boy’s mind. “Some people tend to find me intimidating. 

Elliot didn’t understand Tyrell didn’t look the slightest bit apologetic despite his words. And his intimidation seemed to be the only true thing about him. It seemed to break through the wrongness that surrounded him. 

"Well it was nice to meet you, Elliott,” he continued once he realized Elliot wasn’t going to respond. Elliot wasn’t quite sure how or why Tyrell knew his name. 

He walked around his desk and made his way to the front of the room where he turned back to face Elliot and all of the empty desks that surrounded them. 

"Bonsoir," he added, continuing his stare and giving Elliot a slight wave. Then, he was gone.

What the hell. 

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Elliot always sat alone at lunch. That fact was not surprising given his lack of friends and antisocial attitude. What was more shocking was that he ate alone in the cafeteria. Sure, he could go in the library or any empty classroom, but the silence in those places was too suffocating. There, Elliot was left alone to his mind. The cafeteria provided a distraction. There were people to observe, conversations to listen to, and, of course, Tyrell. 

Today, Elliot sat in the same corner of his normal table, laptop set in front of him. It provided a barrier and an excuse to look busy in case someone decided to talk to him. He usually took this time to hack. Elliot knew that he was exposing himself by using the school servers, but he also knew that the school was too slow to ever catch him. He always covered his tracks. 

For the second time that day, Elliot heard the sound of a chair scraping the floor. He felt an extreme sense of deja vu as he looked up and found himself staring into the eyes of Tyrell. His heart rate spiked. What was he doing here?

Elliot continued to stare at Tyrell as the other boy set his stuff down and pulled a salad out of his bag. His level of perfection continued to persist.

"Why are you here?"

As soon of the words left his mouth, Elliot cringed. Shit. That wasn’t what he wanted to say. 

Tyrell simply gave a small chuckle as if Elliot was something that amused him. No one ever laughed at Elliot. 

"I'm not stalking you. I promise,” he joked, brushing of Elliot’s rudeness in one fail swoop. Elliot observed Tyrell’s face a little bit closer. The mask was still in its place, and his eyes remained empty. 

"And I’m sorry about earlier. I know I came off a bit intense,” Tyrell continued when he realized Elliot wasn’t going to respond. 

"It's … okay,” Elliot said slowly, still not understanding why Tyrell was apologizing a second time for something that he wasn’t sorry for. Or even why he was sitting at Elliot's table. Everything was too confusing.

"It's just… I’ve seen you around. And you intrigue me,” Tyrell said, replying to Elliot's original question. His eyes became less empty. 

Elliot looked over towards Tyrell's normal table. 

"What about your friends?" he questioned, genuinely curious why Tyrell had chosen today out of all days to sit with him.

Tyrell followed Elliot's gaze.

"Those guys? They aren’t my friends. Appearances, you know?"

Elliot didn't know, but he pretended he did. 

"They mean nothing to me,” Tyrell continued. “You know Scott Knowles? I don’t know how his girlfriend hasn’t blown his brains out."

Elliot's brain short circuited. Had he heard that right?

"Sorry,” Tyrell quickly said, now aware of what he let slip. “That was rude. My mouth just gets away from me sometimes."

Elliot missed the bullshit excuse due to the loud thrumming of his brain. So this was what Tyrell was hiding. It would explain the coldness and the emptiness of his eyes. His robotic routine and his perfect image had trapped something much darker inside. Weirdly enough, Elliot didn’t feel scared or threatened. In fact, he felt relief. This wasn’t the typical pain or self-loathing of everyone else. This was new; this was different. He was fascinating. 

The bell rang once again, shocking Elliot out of his train of thought. Tyrell had finished his salad and was gathering up his things. Elliot really had to stop getting lost in his head. 

Closing his unused computer and picking up his own things, Elliot remained silent until he looked up and noticed that Tyrell was staring at him once again.

"It was nice to see you again, Elliot,” he began, speaking as if to an old friend. “I’ll be seeing you soon."

As he began to walk away, Elliot felt the desperate need to say something. Anything. 

"You didn't have to apologize," he blurted out. 

Tyrell stopped walking and turned around slowly, looking slightly confused. 

"Apologize for what?"

"You said you were sorry earlier. You weren't," Elliot decided to continue. He was in deep now. 

Tyrell simply stared at Elliot in response. After about thirty seconds, Elliot decided to turn around himself and start walking. His comment didn’t require a response.  
As Elliot walked away, he didn’t notice the eyes of Tyrell following him into the crowd. With people bustling around him, Tyrell stood silent and still, a small smile spreading across his lips.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

As much as Elliot hated school, going home was worse. Not only did he have to face his parents, but the torment of his mind was waiting for him. There were no distractions or escapes. The only fortunate thing was that his home was close to school. For this reason, Elliot was able to avoid the horridness of public transit. He would simply walk home every day, headphones in his ears. Darlene would have been willing to drive him, but she had a social life and a boyfriend. Elliot didn't want to burden her with his presence.

So Elliot walked alone every day, rain or shine. The weather never bothered him, whatever it ended up being. It would always distract him from his mind. 

Today, Elliot appeared to be lucky. It was cold and cloudy - his preference. Pulling up his hood and gripping his backpack, he left immediately after the last bell rang. While there was torment at home, staying at school risked the chance of social interaction and thus more mental anguish. 

Halfway through his route home, Elliot noticed a shadow. Lowering his music, he listened hard and heard the fast paced footsteps of someone behind him. His heart sped up. Fortunately, bullies had never been an issue for him, but the idea of someone following him was still incredibly nerve wracking.

Elliot slowed his own pace and looked back. The glare of sunlight on a head of blonde hair made it perfectly clear who was following him. This couldn't be happening right now. Elliot was seriously questioning Tyrell's claims from earlier that he wasn't stalking him. Elliot came to a full stop. 

It took a few moments for Tyrell to get to where Elliot stood. When he arrived, he didn't look out of breath. However, one strand of hair was out of place. The mask was breaking.

"Elliot," Tyrell greeted warmly, ignoring the weirdness of the situation. "I saw that you were walking home, and I wanted to walk with you."

Elliot gave him a hesitant nod. Tyrell smiled slightly in response, beginning to walk at Elliot's previous pace. They traveled in silence for a few minutes until Tyrell let out a slight cough.

"I wanted to talk to you about what you said earlier," he began.

Elliot's mind snapped to attention.

"About my apology. I'm sorry if I didn't come off genuine..." Tyrell continued. He was too desperate to keep his control and emptiness in place. It wasn't working.

Elliot decided to respond with honesty.

"You weren't," he replied simply, giving the ground a little kick as he walked. "Why did you even try?"

"I don't know," Tyrell responded, sounded slightly frustrated and defeated. It was as if he was admitting to his own humanity.

They walked for an another minute before Elliot had the courage to ask a question of his own.

"Why me?" he cautiously asked.

Tyrell slowed his walk and made a face of confusion.

"I mean, why did you choose to talk to me?" he began. "We've been at the same school for a while. Why now?"

Tyrell considered the question for the next few moments in silence. 

"You intrigue me. I've been watching you for the past few months," Tyrell confessed, looking at the ground. "You seem different from all of them. Different from everyone else."

Elliot nodded again despite the fact that Tyrell wasn't looking at him. It didn't answer all of the questions swirling through his head, but he would accept the answer for now. 

Tyrell suddenly stopped in the middle of the street. Elliot slowed to a few feet in front of him.

"Well, Elliot," he started. "It has been a pleasure."

And with that, he was simply gone, walking down the opening of some random street. Elliot was left feeling confused and strangely empty. He had no clue where Tyrell lived despite all of his hacking. How was he going to get home? Was he even going home? 

He was just gone, his mystery and wrongness with him.

For the last few minutes of his walking, Elliot pondered the idea of Tyrell and his sudden entrance into his life. Nothing about him made sense, yet everything about him seemed to have a purpose. Elliot could see that he too was breaking, like himself.

For as long as Elliot had watched him, it was clear that Tyrell didn't believe in control; he was control. Everything about him was planned, perfect, immaculate. From that tiny strand of hair, Elliot could see that something was changing. Control, in every sense, was indeed an illusion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, my version of Tyrell is kind of a stalker. *shrugs* I do what I want. Hope you enjoyed and don't forget to comment. Thanks!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone. I'm still here as you can see. Thank you again for your amazing response to this story. Updates will be very weird due to academic stuff, but the story continues. Again, please continue giving feedback or suggestions for what you'd like to see. This story has no clear direction. Also, please keep in mind that I'm just a teenager (almost an adult). I've never been in a relationship or know what I'm doing English wise.  
> Anyways, hope you like this chapter.

Elliot’s walk to school the next day was plagued by anxiety and fear. His night hadn’t been interesting. A few thwarted attempts homework, hours avoiding his mother, and hearing the sound of Darlene yapping to her boyfriend. That was his life in a nutshell. Uneventful yet painful. And, of course, no sleep.

It was Tyrell that was making him anxious. Was he going to appear out of nowhere and question him on his walk? Better yet, was he hiding through the trees and following him? Granted, that was a ridiculous idea, and Tyrell appeared to be far above that. Still, Elliot remained anxious, thinking about countless possibilities and how he should handle today. Honestly, he had no clue. 

With his prominent dark circles and pulled up hoodie, Elliot probably looked like a homeless drug addict walking in, but he didn’t care. These people weren’t worth his time. Slipping an earbud in one ear, he began to make his way towards his locker, his thoughts still on everything that happened yesterday.

As if conjured by his thoughts, Tyrell appeared halfway through his walk to his locker. The boy seemed to be looking into the small mirror of his own locker, staring forcefully at his image. Elliot stopped in his tracks. Looking closer at him, Elliot noticed that Tyrell was silently mouthing words with his hands balled into fists. The words he was saying couldn’t be made out, but whatever he was saying appeared to be forceful. Almost scathing. Elliot looked at him for a few more seconds and then continued on his way. 

******************************************************************************************

It came time for statistics class, and Elliot was anxious again. Would Tyrell sit next to him? If he did, would he bring up yesterday? What would Elliot say? He had nothing to talk about. Shit, he was going to make things awkward. 

The sound of a chair scrapping the floor interrupts the tirade going on in Elliot’s head. He knew who it was before he looked up.

“Hello, Elliot.”

Elliot’s eyes met Tyrell’s, clocking his movements as he set his books down. When Tyrell finally settled, Elliot quickly moved his eyes to stare at the desk.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Tyrell’s voice said calmly. Elliot’s eyes shot back to Tyrell. He seemed relaxed. This man was different from the one Elliot had seen at the locker earlier.

“I know,” Elliot replied simply, shocking himself at his own courage to speak. That wasn’t supposed to come out. 

Tyrell gave a small smile in return. After a moment of hesitation, he opened his mouth to speak.

“I was wondering if you would like to come over today.”

Elliot’s brain skidded to a halt. What?

“Come over where?” Elliot blurted out. He didn’t mean to respond so quickly, but he didn’t understand where this was coming from.

Tyrell chuckled.

“My house. I was wondering if you would like to come over to my house.”

Elliot just stared at him in response. What the heck was going on? Sure, he had been watching Tyrell for a while and was interested in him, but all that was purely objective. Besides his hacking and almost stalking, he knew nothing real about him. And Elliot was fairly certain Tyrell knew nothing about him.

As if reading Elliot’s mind, Tyrell spoke again, looking slightly apologetic.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to alarm you. I mean, I know we barely know each other. And I wouldn’t blame you if you say no. This must all seem so sudden to you after yesterday.”

Yes, that could be said. For years, Tyrell hadn’t talked to him or even look his way. Why now?

“I’ve just planning this for so long, and I know I’m coming off a little strong, but you intrigue me, Elliot.”

Planning this? What did he mean by “planning this”? What did he have to plan? Did he want something from Elliot? The better question, how long had he been planning something? Apparently, Tyrell had known who Elliot was. The question is, what did he know?

Tyrell noticed Elliot’s dubious expression.

“The reason I’m inviting you to my house is because it’s quiet. I would have suggested a coffee shop, but I figured that’s not quite up your alley.”

Elliot thought on this and realized Tyrell had a point. Being in his home would be daunting, but it was better than being surrounded by the other people of their town, passing judgments and observing them. And it was true that Elliot was also intrigued by Tyrell. If he got him alone, maybe he could understand him. Then this fascination could end.

“Okay,” Elliot replies after a few seconds of silence, sounding cautious. 

Tyrell’s face lightened once the words left Elliot’s mouth. 

“Excellent. I’ll meet you at 4 near the stadium stairs.”

Elliot was going to respond, but their teacher had just entered the room from her usual rendezvous, forcing him into silence. He didn’t risk look at Tyrell the whole lesson, but he felt Tyrell’s eyes on him for various moments. 

Before he knew it, the bell rang. In the midst of everyone packing up their things, Tyrell looked at Elliot.

“4 o’clock,” he said simply.

Tyrell took Elliot’s nod in response as his cue to leave, strolling out of the classroom with ease.

**************************************************************************************************************************

There was no sign of Tyrell for the rest of the day. During lunch, he didn’t appear to be in the cafeteria, leaving Elliot alone to the raging sound of his thoughts. The rest of the day followed in the same fashion. His mind was consumed by Tyrell and what their meeting later could mean. He didn’t expect…? Elliot shook those thoughts violently from his mind. If Tyrell had wanted some meaningless intimacy, he could have had anyone he wanted without question. Elliot definitely would not have been the first choice. 

Once school was over, Elliot used the time he had left before meeting Tyrell to talk with Darlene. As always, she was at her car, kissing her "Dark Army" boyfriend. Elliot coughed loudly once he reached them.

Darlene pulled away and made an irritated sound at Elliot.

“What?”

“I’m not going straight home.”

Darlene looks at him curiously, losing her grumpy expression.

“Where are you going?”

“Out,” Elliot said bluntly, not wanting to explain to her the confusing mess everything currently was.

She nodded in response, taking his answer for what it was. This is why Elliot always went to Darlene. His mom would have just yelled at him, and his dad wouldn’t have even picked up his phone. When it came to communication, Darlene was the easiest way to go.

Elliot was going to say something else, but Darlene had started kissing her boyfriend again so he decided to just start towards the stadium stairs.

With his heart beating fast and anxiety ramped up, Elliot slowly walked. He was already regretting saying yes to this. His thoughts of doubt halted once he reached the stairs and found Tyrell already standing there. Elliot looked at his phone clock. It was only 3:30. He decided to cautiously make his way over and stand next to Tyrell, remaining silent.

Tyrell looked up from the textbook he was reading and hurriedly got up once seeing Elliot. He ran his fingers through his hair anxiously, attempting to flatten it to his head.

“Elliot,” he greeted with a soft smile. He looked at his phone. “My driver is here if you'd like to go now.”

Elliot nodded, and they both turned to walk towards a shining black escalade. A bulky man wearing sunglasses stepped out and opened the door for each of them.

“Mr. Wellick”, he greeted with no emotion.

“Safety precautions,” Tyrell offered as they slid into the leather, expensive seats. As Elliot kept forgetting, his dad was a millionaire.

The whole ride was filled with silence, but Elliot didn't find himself minding. School was always so noisy and dramatic, but here there was only the sound of Tyrell’s soft breathing and the blow of the air vents. Elliot lazily stared out the window, relaxing for the first time in weeks.

The ride past quickly, and Elliot was surprised when the car finally stopped. As if on cue, Tyrell’s phone let out a generic ringtone.

“I’ll be just a minute,” Tyrell said as he reached for the door handle, sounding slightly regretful and a bit nervous. What did someone like Tyrell have to be nervous about?

He stepped out of the car.

Unconcerned, Elliot took his time to look at Tyrell’s house. Predictably, it was huge. Like Tyrell, it seemed to hold a level of immaculateness; every blade of grass cut to size and fresh white paint covering the outside. Looking at the other houses around him, Elliot realized that the Tyrell house looked just like the rest of the neighborhood. In fact, there seemed to be no differences at all. They were carbon copies of each other.

“Well, I don’t care what you have to say,” Tyrell’s frustrated voice carried from outside the car.

Elliot’s thought process was broken as he strained to hear what was going on.

“It’s not my company in case you’ve forgotten,” he hissed, sounding as if he was getting angrier by the minute. “You’re the one who’s throwing it all away, surrounded by booze and plastic body parts.”

There was a moment of silence. Then came the outburst.

“Maybe I don’t care what you think!” At this point, Tyrell had reached the point of screaming. “I’m not your throw away toy that you can pick back up anytime. This is your mess, not mine!”

Another moment of silence persisted until suddenly the door on Elliot’s side was thrown open to reveal a disheveled Tyrell. With hair falling in his face and cheeks tinted with red, the mask was no longer in place. Elliot never thought he had looked so beautiful.

“Really sorry. Personal phone call. Family, am I right?”

Elliot ignored his attempt at lighthearted conversation and continued to stare at Tyrell.

Realizing that Elliot wasn’t going to give him a response, he merely opened the car door wider. Elliot read the signal and grabbed his bag. He and Tyrell then walked up the long, winding driveway as the car drove off behind them.

“My parents aren’t home though the rest of the staff is,” Tyrell explains hurriedly as they reach the door, sounding almost afraid. Interesting.

After Elliot passed through the door, he was met with a sight similar to the outside of the house: white, clean, and immaculate. There was a woman standing near the stairs who came to talk to Tyrell for a minute, but Elliot tuned out their conversation and continued observing the house around him.

When he tuned back in, the lady was gone, and Tyrell was standing alone with water bottles and a variety of foods.

“My room’s on the second floor if you’d like to go there?”

Elliot’s heart sped up, but he found himself nodding.

Tyrell took the lead, guiding Elliot up the intricate staircase and through hallways.

Why was he here? This was beyond strange. He had never talked to Tyrell before yesterday, but now he was at his house? This had to be a dream of some sort.

Regardless of his inner turmoil, he followed Tyrell into his room which seemed to be secluded from the rest of the house. The pattern seemed to persist as Elliot took in his room: clean, white, immaculate. It was almost as if the whole house was a computer, programmed to follow this set design.

“Do you want something to change into?” Tyrell suddenly asked him, hands bereft of food.

Elliot looked down at his hoodie confused. Was something wrong with what he was wearing?

Seeing his blatant confusion, Tyrell gave a slight smile.

“I mean, would you like something warmer to wear? You’ve been wearing that hoodie pretty much every day since freshmen year and this house gets drafty.”

Not wanting to fight or inconvenience Tyrell, Elliot just decided to give him a shrug. Best to just let Tyrell have all the control.

Tyrell stared at him for a minute until he seemingly made up his mind, heading towards a door at the back of his room. Disappearing for a few seconds, Tyrell came back with a chunky black sweater in his arms. He silently handed it to Elliot. The other boy was uncertain where or how to change, but Tyrell solved the problem by going back inside the closet.

Elliot hurriedly shed his hoodie and undershirt, putting on the sweater. It was soft. He pulled it closer to his face and smelled it. It smelled vaguely of body soap and sharp cologne. Exactly like Tyrell.

The man himself suddenly reappeared. Wearing a chunky sweater of his own and softer cloth pants, he smiled genuinely at Elliot, as if seeing him in his sweater was something precious.

“Do you want something to eat?” he offers, motioning to the food which he had put on the bed.

As an answer, Elliot moved towards the bed, placing himself at the very edge. Tyrell walked around to the other edge, sitting down with his legs crossed over each other. It was then Elliot realized that Tyrell was barefoot.

Elliot stared at his feet as Tyrell grabbed some food. Hearing his chewing sounds and not wanting to be rude, he grabbed some non-descript item and began eating. They sat in the silence eating until Tyrell decided to speak.

“You don’t like being touched do you?”

Elliot froze up, immediately stopping his chewing.

“I’ve just noticed that you try to move away when people touch you,” Tyrell added on, hoping to explain his observation.

“Yeah,” Elliot said softly, figuring admitting to his aversion to touch would be simpler than just denying it.

Tyrell took this as a sign to continue.

“Why?”

Elliot didn’t know how to answer. It was all extremely complicated. Deciding on the simplest and most effective course of action, he lifted both of his sleeves, revealing the cigarette burns on his skin. He wasn’t necessarily abused, but he figured it screamed family problems well enough.

Tyrell looked stunned at the inflamed flesh. He reached out but then suddenly retracted his hands as if afraid. Elliot felt bad for causing that fear. In return, he moved his arms closer to Tyrell, encouraging him to reach out. Accepting the gesture, Tyrell hesitantly reached out again, grazing his cold fingers against the warmth of Elliot’s forearm. He shivered. Why did he like this so much?

Minutes passed by, Tyrell tracing each burn carefully, making sure to drag his fingers over each one. Elliot figured that this was weird. Even romantic partners didn’t share this much intimacy until months after knowing each other. However, it felt too good to stop.

Elliot didn’t know how time passed until Tyrell’s hands came to a stop. He was about to ask Tyrell if he would continue, but he was stopped by the other boy’s movements. Tyrell was shifting on his edge of the bed, looking nervous. Deciding on whatever he was debating in his head, he brought his hand to the hem of his sweater and lifted it up.

Elliot panicked. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Could he have been right about him earlier? He thought Tyrell wasn’t expecting anything. Could he have been wrong? Was casual intimacy what Tyrell wanted?

Elliot’s train of thought stopped at the sight of Tyrell’s lower chest. It was red. Looking closer, Elliot realized that the red was made of lines. Scratch marks. But… Elliot looked at Tyrell’s nails and made the connection. He was inflicting pain on himself. But why? And why was he showing him?

It hit Elliot like a ton of bricks. Vulnerability. This was Tyrell being vulnerable. He wanted to give something to Elliot in return after he had shown his own vulnerability. Elliot continued to stare at the marks on Tyrell’s chest, willing them to go away. Why would he do this?

Before he knew what was happening, Elliot found his own hand reaching out. His hand stopped midway. Should he be doing this? What the hell was he even doing? This wasn’t like him at all.

Tyrell saw the conflict in Elliot’s face and moved closer to him, allowing his hands to graze the marks. Deciding to take the plunge, Elliot began to move his fingers, slowly mirroring Tyrell’s past actions. Tyrell let out a shaky sigh.

It continued for a little while longer, both boys remaining in silence. Time passed slowly until Elliot’s fingers stopped moving, his hand falling back to his side. It occurred to Elliot that they should probably be doing homework. He was about to say that much when Tyrell suddenly stood up.

He moved slowly around the room, grabbing the food from the bed and placing it down on the only desk in the room. After the bed was cleared, he moved back to the bed where Elliot was. Instead of sitting in his past position, he laid down. Elliot stared at him.

Tyrell raised his eyes in response.

“You look tired,” he said simply.

Elliot shrugged. It was true. He hadn’t been sleeping for a long time.

Tyrell let out a sigh.

“You have to sleep, Elliot. People will get concerned.”

“Will they?” Elliot replied honestly. His parents didn’t care. Darlene was busy. He hadn’t talked to Angela in years. He had no one.

Tyrell seemed to understand what Elliot was thinking. He patted the space next to him. Elliot continued to stare.

Tyrell gave a little huff.

“Elliot, you need to sleep.”

Not wanting to fight him, Elliot decided to lay down slowly, leaving plenty of space between the two of them. The bed was comfortable. God knows Tyrell had the money for an expensive matress.

Tyrell gave another little huff. Elliot felt the bed move as Tyrell shifted over to him. He crept one his arms around Elliot’s waist, softly gripping the bulging fabric of his sweater. He then moved his chest to cover Elliot's back, consciously moving his hips away. Tyrell's head came to nuzzle the other boy's hair, exhaling a deep breath onto Elliot's neck. 

"This is okay, right? " he asked into the silence.

Honestly, Elliot didn't know. He really didn't understand what was going on right now. Why was Tyrell this close to him? Why was he touching him in the first place? Why did he like it? Elliot decided to voice his confusion.

"What are you..."

"Shhh....." Tyrell whispered into Elliot's neck. "Just don't think. You need to sleep."

Elliot supposed Tyrell was right. He did need sleep. Judging by Tyrell's behavior, he probably needed sleep too. With this reasoning, Elliot allowed himself to nod off. It wouldn't hurt anyone, would it? He could think about all of this when he woke up.

********************************************************************************************************************

Several hours passed until Elliot opened his eyes. He could read Tyrell's watch. 9:00 PM. Shit. Wait... Elliot moved his head slightly to the left. Tyrell. He had completely forgotten about everything that just happened. He analyzed the day's events in his mind. This was just too strange. He had somehow progressed from talking to Tyrell four times to sleeping with him in a bed. There was something wrong with that.

Elliot slowly began extracting himself from Tyrell. At his movements, the sleeping body next to him made a growling noise and attempted to clutch Elliot's arm, but Elliot moved away just in time. 

"Tyrell, I need to go," Elliot said urgently, searching the room for his hoodie. 

Tyrell's eyes slowly opened as he began to process what was going on. He looked somewhat surprised with how things ended up but not upset. More satisfied and smug.

"If you're looking for your hoodie, I can just give it to you tomorrow," Tyrell offered in his croaky voice.

Elliot nodded in agreement and pulled at the sweater questioningly. 

"Keep it," Tyrell said as he began pulling himself from the bed. "It looks better on you anyway."

Elliot highly doubted that, but he wasn't going to say anything.

"My driver can take you home if you want," he suggested, checking his phone. "I would come with you, but I'm afraid my father needs my help."

"That's okay," Elliot replied, sounding relieved. After all that has happened, he didn't want to have to sit awkwardly with Tyrell in the car and stress about how to handle things. Honestly, Elliot didn't even know himself anymore.

Tyrell helped gather his stuff and walked him down the halls to the front door. It still appeared as if no one was home.

"Thank you for coming, Elliot. We should do this again sometime," Tyrell said as they finally reached the door. 

"Thank you," Elliot said quietly, unsure of what he meant. Do what again? Sleep? Touch each other? Elliot's cheeks flamed at thinking about touching the scratch marks. Honestly, what was he thinking?

Tyrell seemed to sense Elliot's unease as he always did. Forgoing the simple wave or shoulder pat, he immediately gripped Elliot into a hug. This was... overwhelming. 

"Thank you," he repeated, this time whispering in Elliot's ear. "Really, thank you."

They stood there for a few moments as Elliot was too afraid to break the hug. At last, Tyrell pulled back.

"See you tomorrow," Tyrell offered as a goodbye, allowing Elliot to finally make his way out the door.

Walking towards the same black escalade, he looked back at the house to see the black shadow of Tyrell standing behind the window. 

The car ride home was once again silent. This time, however, it was not the comfortable, lazy silence of before. Without Tyrell's breathing, everything seemed suffocating and empty. The minutes passed slowly, but the car eventually made it to Elliot's home. It was then that Elliot realized the driver shouldn't even know his address as he had never spoken to him. Anxious to get out, Elliot sprinted to his front lawn and through the front door.

The sound of tv and his mother's shouting greeted him as he walked in, but he continued running up the stairs. He heard Darlene's yapping once again on the way to his room but was too preoccupied for it to annoy him.

Shutting his door, Elliot let out a breath he hadn't known he had been holding. He opened up his computer and hacked Tyrell again. Nothing made sense. It was all just as confusing as before. 

Who was Tyrell Wellick?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, I'm not sure about this chapter. I don't know. I did spend my whole Friday night writing this for you guys though so I hope it ended up okay. Thanks for continuing to read.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me just say, you all are amazing. I am so incredibly happy that you all actually like the story (to be honest I thought no one would read it). Your comments and kudos are the highlights of my day. My account hasn't been letting me reply to them, but I'll see what I can do. Based on the response from the last chapter, I decided to upload as soon as I could. I am in fact sick so that works out well for you all. Once again, thank you for everything, please (if you'd like) continue giving feedback. This chapter is very long.
> 
> Also, can we talk about that latest episode? My mind has been shattered.

The last few weeks had been… weird. And that was putting it lightly. Honestly, Elliot didn’t know what was going on anymore. In a way, everything was the same. His classes remained dull, his peers remained stupid, and his family was still a broken mess. Yet everything had changed. On Elliot’s way to school, Tyrell would sometimes show up in his black escapade, offering him a ride. Their rides were once again filled with silence and the sound of breathing. Tyrell would give him a small wave on these days as he left, leaving Elliot to walk into school alone. There were also days when Tyrell would sit with Elliot at lunch. It didn’t happen all the time (as Tyrell had club and business type commitments), but when it did, Tyrell spent most of the time ranting. Elliot didn’t mind. In fact, he found it fascinating. Tyrell’s normally pale face would turn slightly red as he talked, getting angrier at everything and everyone by the second. It was real. He was real.

The only thing that was consistent about Tyrell was that he would walk Elliot home every day. He never called for the escapade, choosing to slowly walk with Elliot instead. Sometimes they talked; sometimes they didn’t. There was no ranting or anger from Tyrell then. Now, he was calmer. His phone would always go off at least twice, but he would always ignore it in favor of listening to Elliot’s rambles about society and organized religion. It was strange. Elliot had never felt comfortable sharing his views with anyone, but Tyrell seemed to understand. He was different.

Every day, Tyrell would leave Elliot once they reached his house, grasping Elliot’s shoulder or hand for a short time. This was normally their only point of physical contact for the day. It always seemed that Tyrell wanted to say something else after these moments, but he would just say a quick goodbye instead and head off in some random direction. Elliot himself was confused. Tyrell had no qualms about literally having Elliot in his bed a couple weeks ago, but now he limited himself? It didn’t make any sense. He didn’t seem to be the kind of person to restrict himself. 

“Who was that boy?” his mother’s drunken voice would always slur as he entered the house. 

Elliot ignored her every time. Instead, he would go to his room and, as quickly as he could, put on Tyrell’s sweater. He supposed this repeated cycle was slightly creepy. If he were normal, he would have washed the sweater and given it back to Tyrell immediately. There were logical reasons why he kept it. The sweater was warm, clean, and far more expensive than anything Elliot had ever owned. On the other hand, there was the calming scent of Tyrell and body soap that seemed to lull Elliot’s raging mind. Besides, wasn’t their whole relationship abnormal?

******************************************************************************************

“I need you.”

Elliot’s eyes shot up from his computer screen to stare at Tyrell. It was statistics class again, another one of the few constants in Elliot’s life. 

“There’s an event this Saturday. A party,” Tyrell continued, setting his things down. 

Elliot made a slight face. A party? Why would Tyrell want to go to a party?

“A business party,” Tyrell hurriedly corrected himself, reading Elliot’s mind. “It’s a favor for my dad. His colleagues are all going to be there.”

Elliot still didn’t understand where this was going. Why was Tyrell telling him this?

Tyrell let out a soft sigh. 

“I need you to come with me,” Tyrell said bluntly, hoping Elliot would finally catch on.

Elliot was getting déjà vu. It was incredibly similar to him asking Elliot over to his house a couple weeks ago. 

“It’s really just about appearances. No one will really know who you are or care for that matter,” Tyrell explained. “You don’t need to speak at all if you don’t want.”

Elliot thought on what Tyrell said. He wouldn’t know anyone there so that eliminated the possibility of his classmates showing up. He wouldn’t be expected to say anything or impress anyone. This was also an elite party going by the attendance of Tyrell’s dad. There would be no thumping music or red solo cups filled with cheap liquor. Tyrell had also said he needed Elliot. He had never been needed before.

“I…um.. okay?” Elliot finally decided to say, wondering if this was the right choice. 

Tyrell’s eyes lite up.

“Excellent. I’ll give a tailor your measurements to make you a suit for the event.”

Elliot wasn’t even going to question how Tyrell knew his measurements. It was better not to question these things when it came to Tyrell. Elliot had realized that a while ago. It just made everything more confusing. 

He gave a small nod of recognition.

“Can I have your phone number?” Tyrell suddenly asked, breaking Elliot out of his pensive state. 

“Why?” Elliot replied curiously. They saw each other almost every day. Was there any point?

“I want to make sure that you get the suit okay and that it fits properly.”

When he put it like that, it made sense. Elliot also figured that it was a bit strange that they didn’t have each other’s numbers already. Wasn’t that the first thing friends did? Wait… friends? Elliot’s mind backtracked, but then he realized it was true. Tyrell had become the only person close to him these past weeks. 

After realizing this, Elliot ripped out a piece of paper and wrote his number down. At least this way he wouldn’t be the one responsible for communicating first. Tyrell gave another smile as Elliot passed him the paper with the numbers on it. What exactly had Elliot gotten himself into?

********************************************************************************************************************************** 

The days leading up to Saturday were uneventful and slow. The patterns of Elliot’s life persisted. Tyrell swimming in and out, his sister sneaking her boyfriend into her room, his mom’s yelling drunkenly, and his father coming in the house at midnight. It was all the same. 

Halfway through week, something strange did happen. Elliot had expected Tyrell to contact him in some way all week. He thought it would be in the form of a text, asking about the suit. 

It was 2 AM. Elliot was lying awake in his bed, simultaneously listening to the inner workings of his mind and his parents’ bickering. Suddenly, he felt his phone vibrate. No one except Darlene contacted him. He picked up the phone and checked the caller id. Unknown. His thoughts went to Tyrell. It seemed to be the only logical answer. Elliot decided to accept the call and pressed the answer button.

He waited for the person on the other end to speak first in case it wasn't Tyrell. There was only silence. Listening closer, Elliot realized that he could hear the sound of rapid breathing. He recognized it immediately.

“Tyrell?” he said softly into the phone, unsure of what to do.

There was no response, but the breathing on the other end became less erratic. Elliot waited for Tyrell to speak, but the silence continued on. Did Tyrell want him to speak? What did he want to hear? Elliot was too exhausted to think about this. Figuring Tyrell would speak if he needed anything, Elliot moved under his covers and closed his eyes. Before he knew it, he was asleep, lulled into sleep by Tyrell’s breathing. 

When Elliot woke up, the call had ended. He checked his call log. The phone call had lasted four hours. Elliot assumed Tyrell would bring it up at school. He was wrong. During lunch, he ranted as usual, ignoring the events of the night before. He looked more tired though, betraying that something happened. Elliot figured he would find out in time.

His suit arrived Friday. True to Tyrell’s word, it fit perfectly. As Elliot was staring at his reflection and thinking about texting Tyrell, Darlene stomped into his room. 

“Elliot, I’m looking for…. oh.”

She looked at Elliot for a moment, observing him for a minute, and then simply walked out. Elliot was left confused by her reaction but decided to text Tyrell instead to notify him about the suit. Tyrell, of course, replied promptly, saying he was glad that it fit. Elliot was kind of afraid that Tyrell would ask him to send a picture, but fortunately he didn’t.

Saturday morning came and went in a panic. Elliot’s nerves had been getting the best of him, making him doubt everything. What if he embarrassed Tyrell? Even worse, what if Tyrell abandoned him as soon as they got there? What was Elliot even going to do there? He wasn’t like these people. He had no money. 

These thoughts swarmed through Elliot’s mind on a constant loop, making him even more anxious. The cycle lasted until 5 when Tyrell sent a text saying he was on his way. In that moment, Elliot’s anxiety suddenly stopped. He was doing this for Tyrell. Tyrell needed him. He needed to be calm.

Before he left his room in the suit, Elliot made sure the way to the door was clear. Darlene was still in her room with the door shut, and his dad was still not home. Elliot took the chance, quickly making his way down the stairs only to be met by his mom. Shit. Why didn't he consider her?

“Where do you think you’re going?” she slurred, holding a wine bottle in her hand. Did she know how pathetic she looked?

“Out,” he replied tersely, hoping that this would be quick. His phone buzzed, altering him that Tyrell was probably here. 

His mom cackled.

“Even I know that much.”

“I really need to go,” Elliot said in response, making his way around her. 

“Don’t think you’re coming back here.”

Elliot turned.

“What?”

“If you don't tell me where you’re going, you’re not coming back here tonight,” she explained, sounding almost logical despite her drunkenness. Elliot didn’t have time for this.

“Fine,” he replied hurriedly, anxious to get out the door. The sound of his mother's drunk ramblings followed him out the door.

Once he got outside, he noticed the black escapade stting by the curb; Tyrell was leaning on its side. He was also wearing a slim cut suit, charcoal gray instead of Elliot’s black. His hair was in its normal style, perfect and without strays. He looked nice. 

“You look good,” Tyrell greeted him, appreciating the suit that he had gotten Elliot. 

Elliot simply nodded, and they both got into the car. Once he was sitting down, Elliot fully grasped what just happened. Did his mother kick him out for the night? Shit. He should have just explained things to her. He was just so nervous about this party thing, and he didn’t want to make Tyrell late… But what was he going to do about tonight? Where was he going to go?

Elliot began fisting the cloth of his expensive suit unknowingly, gripping hard at the fine fabric. 

“Elliot,” came Tyrell’s calm voice. “Elliot, are you okay?”

He felt two fingers underneath his chin and found his face on level with Tyrell’s. 

“Tell me what’s wrong,” he demanded. 

“I can’t stay at my house tonight,” Elliot decided to stay, going with the truth. Tyrell would probably know if he lied.

The other boy looked at him thoughtfully. 

“You can stay at my house. You’re always welcome there; you know that right?”

Elliot didn’t know that, but he decided to nod in response. 

Tyrell stared at Elliot, sensing his uncertainty. He careful placed his left hand on Elliot’s own. With his thumb, he smoothed out the cuffs that Elliot had wrinkled. His hands remained there for the rest of the ride. 

It was only when the car pulled up to their destination that Tyrell took his hand back. Alarmed, Elliot looked around. He had no idea where they were, but it looked very similar to Carnegie Hall. Everything was painfully colorful. The grass, the building, the dresses of the people walking up the walkway. Like Tyrell’s house, it was too clean, too perfect. Elliot was already unsettled. 

Someone opened Tyrell’s door, and he stepped out of the car. Elliot was about to open his own door when it suddenly opened of its own accord. The image of Tyrell’s smiling face came to him as the door swung wider. His hand was stretched out as an offering to Elliot, and he grasped it hesitantly, allowing himself to be dragged out of the car.

Tyrell held onto his hand a moment longer and then moved his other hand to the center of Elliot’s back, guiding him towards the walkways. Amidst the colorful suits and dresses, the black and gray of Tyrell and Elliot immediately set them apart. It made Elliot feel a little uneasy, but Tyrell’s hand on his lower back remained an anchor. 

Walking into the large, main ballroom, Elliot was hit with a feeling of nausea. As he looked around, he realized he did know people here. They weren’t his classmates like he feared, but the people he hacked. In one corner was the politician that paid to have a prostitute ring of young boys. Near the bar was a mistress of the head CEO of some important company he couldn’t remember. The list went on and on as Elliot continued to look around. He glanced at Tyrell. He too had a slight look of disgust on his face, breaking through his usual unfeeling mask. 

“Tyrell? Tyrell Wellick?” came a girlish voice from the right. 

Both Tyrell and Elliot turned to see a girl around their age standing close to them. Elliot felt Tyrell tense up next to him.

“Joanna,” Tyrell greeted, his fake small and charm falling into place. The mask was back.

She let out a laugh that sounded the chiming of bells. 

“I haven’t seen you in ages,” she gushed, unconsciously wrapping a strand of her brown hair around one finger.

Elliot tuned out what Tyrell said in response in order to observe Joanna. She appeared to be smiling at Tyrell, looking slightly giddy at whatever he was saying. Watching her a little closer, Elliot noticed there was something off. It was like the kind of wrongness that surrounded Tyrell but somehow different. It was disturbing. 

“Well it was great to see you,” Tyrell said, tugging on Elliot’s sleeve and bringing him back to reality.

“Nice to meet you,” Elliot added in hastily, not wanting to appear rude to the first person of the night. 

She said some parting words herself directed towards Tyrell and sashayed off into the crowd of people. Elliot heard Tyrell give a little sigh. He placed a hand on the back of Elliot’s neck. 

“We probably need to see my parents,” he said reluctantly. “Better now than latter.”

Elliot’s heart began to race, but he calmed it easily. He didn’t care about Tyrell’s parents. Why should he? If his hacking told him anything, they should be the ones who were nervous.

Tyrell suddenly grabbed Elliot’s wrist and began dragging him through the crowd. Weaving in and out of the drunken mobs of people, Elliot began to feel dizzy but was halted by the body of Tyrell who had suddenly stopped.

“Father. Mother,” Tyrell said. 

Elliot looked around him to catch a glance. They appeared the same as they did on the computer screen. Carter Wellick had his hand slipped around his wife’s waist, wedding band gleaming in the light of the chandeliers. The perfect couple.

“Tyrell, sweetie,” Sharon Wellick greeted them. She peered around Tyrell to look at Elliot. “And who would this be?”

Tyrell turned to Elliot ad tugged the wrist that he was still holding so that Elliot was standing right next to him.

“This is Elliot. He is a friend from school.”

Tyrell’s mother gave a small smile, but his father looked at Elliot rather disapprovingly. 

“I’m glad you’re here, son,” Carter addressed Tyrell, ignoring Elliot altogether. 

“Of course,” Tyrell responded off handedly. 

There was an awkward silence. 

“Well, I’m going to go look for Amber,” Sharon suddenly said, detaching herself from her husband. “She said she would arrive right about now. Lovely meeting you, Elliot.”

She skated off into the crowd. Amber… It hit Elliot like a ton of bricks. That was the name on the emails and elicit photos Elliot had found when hacking Sharon’s email. Did that mean… her secret girlfriend was here.

Elliot felt another wave of nausea. What was wrong with these people? Elliot was sure that if he looked hard enough, he could find Carter Wellick’s own mistress.

“Your mother and Amber,” Tyrell’s father observed, breaking the silence. “They spend an awful lot of time together.”

Tyrell gave a terse nod. Maybe he did know what was going on after all. Mr. Wellick suddenly turned towards Elliot.

“You.. Elliot was it?”

Elliot gave a small nod.

“Would you mind going off to the bar or the food table for a minute? I need to speak with my son.”

Elliot’s blood ran cold. He couldn’t be alone.

“Father…” Tyrell interjected anxiously, reflecting Elliot’s inner thoughts.

“Now, Tyrell,” his father said sternly, towering his body over Tyrell as if posturing. 

Tyrell straightened his own posture, becoming rigged. 

“Please Elliot,” he whispered quieter. 

Despite his inner anxiety, Elliot decided to do what he asked. Tyrell didn’t show it, but his eyes seemed nervous. Elliot reluctantly made his way over to the closest bar area. He moved his eyes over the crowd for a while, attempting to give both of the Wellick's privacy. Despite his effort, Elliot found his eyes drifting back over to them and just decided to give into watching them. 

Tyrell’s father appeared to be talking to Tyrell about something serious, but his tone seemed to be patronizing. His gestures and mouth movements suggested he had been drinking, and based on what Elliot knew about him, that was probably the case. To anyone else, it would seem like Tyrell was listening, but Elliot had been watching him for a long time. His pale hands were balled into fists, the corners of his eyes tight. Elliot knew what was coming.

Tyrell started to speak. His father’s face grew red. Elliot couldn’t make out what was said next, but he could hear the harsh and loud tone of Mr. Wellick’s voice. Heads began to turn towards them. Tyrell looked furious. His dad continued yelling, growing louder and louder but no more clear. Tyrell attempted to interrupt, but his father suddenly lashed out. With a huge slap, his hand came in contact with Tyrell’s face, immediately leaving a dark red imprint on Tyrell’s pale skin. 

Tyrell looked stunned. In fact, his father did too. Carter Wellick quickly looked around the room to find everyone staring at them. He turned back to his son and tried to say something, but Tyrell had already turned away. His body began quickly making its way through the crowd. People immediately moved out of the way, allowing him to pass. He walked straight towards Elliot, laced their hands together, and began dragging him through the intricate halls of wherever they were. 

Tyrell didn’t speak. Elliot stayed silent as well. He expected Tyrell to call for a car, but he just kept walking once they reached the car park. His hand clenched Elliot’s so hard it hurt. They walked for a while. Elliot didn’t really know how long really. He was too busy staring at the fury on Tyrell’s face to pay attention to anything else. 

The sky was already dark, but Elliot could see the lights of an abandoned park ahead of them. Tyrell noticed as well and dragged Elliot in that direction. The park looked morose. It was incredibly old, making everything dingy and colorless. The swings swung forlorn in the wind, making a squeaking sound. 

Tyrell continued guiding Elliot until they came to a bench. Without warning, he suddenly snatched his hand away from Elliot’s and dropped his body on to the old bench, covering his face with both of his hands. 

Elliot sat next to him in silence. He was unsure of what to say or what to do. Would Tyrell want comfort? He wasn't sure. Could he even help? Again, he wasn't sure. He just decided to stare at Tyrell's curled up body and wait for a sign. It took a few minutes. Tyrell's erratic breathing, similar to the time he called Elliot in the middle of the night, filled the empty and quiet air. 

Slowly, Tyrell uncurled his body, moving his hands aways from eyes. He turned his head to look at Elliot. His face was flushed, his hair disheveled. 

"I'm sorry, Elliot," he said, his voice hoarse. 

"It's okay," Elliot said automatically in response though he wasn't clear what Tyrell was apologizing for. 

They stared at each other for a few moments, Tyrell started to move. Elliot's heart began to race. Tyrell was shifting his body closer to Elliot's, and Elliot had a moment of panic. He wasn't going to kiss him, was he? He wasn't ready for that. He wasn't prepared for any of this really. 

Instead of moving his head up towards Elliot's lips, Tyrell moved his head down, slowly shifting his body until his body was lying down on the bench, head placed daintily in Elliot's lap. Elliot heard Tyrell sigh as he moved his head into the cloth of his pants. Elliot froze, unsure of how to proceed. Did Tyrell just want him to stay still? Did he want Elliot to touch him? What did he want? 

He heard Tyrell give a small huff of laughter after a few moments of staying completely still. Tyrell moved his head, his eyes meeting Elliot's. His eyes were dim. He found one of Elliot's hands in the dark, moving it to his own hair. For a few minutes, he guided Elliot's hand through his hair until Elliot got the idea. Tyrell then removed his own hand, and Elliot continued the movements, slowly combing through Tyrell's hair. It seemed like a patronizing gesture, but it appeared to calm Tyrell so he continued. 

He continued to stare at the shaking figure on his lap. So this was the true Tyrell Wellick. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed that chapter. Once again, feedback or ideas appreciated. Also, not betaed so excuse any mistakes.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You all are still so amazing. The support for the story is honestly incredible. I'm so glad you're liking everything. Any feedback or suggestions are still greatly welcomed. Especially about the chapter length which I've been playing with. Not sure if they are too long or too short... Also finally got a hold on how to reply to comments so I'll be doing that. Hope you like this chapter and that you all are doing well.
> 
> That's pretty much it so enjoy! I worked for hours on this chapter.

Elliot and Tyrell remained in the abandoned park for hours. For most of it, Tyrell remained with his head into Elliot’s lap, body slightly shaking. His expensive suit was no doubt getting creased, but he didn’t seem to care. Elliot thought he fell asleep after the second hour but was proven wrong when Tyrell slowly lifted his head and returned his body to sitting position. Elliot was disappointed, but he figured that the contact had to come to an end at some point. 

The sound of a lighter's click broke the quiet. Elliot’s head snapped towards Tyrell. Stunned, he observed the other boy pulling a cigarette box out of his pocket, taking one out, and lighting it gracefully. Elliot had no idea Tyrell smoked. And he had observed him carefully for months. Never once had he smelled or seen any sign of a cigarette. He certainly didn't seem to be the type to smoke. It seemed to stain his immaculateness. 

Tyrell brought the flaming cigarette to his lips, lighting his face up in the darkness. Watching him take deep inhales of smoke, Elliot realized how perfect he looked. With the perfect image that always surrounded Tyrell, he would have figured smoking would seem wrong or distasteful. Now, however, it seemed almost artful. The grayness of his suit and the smoke complimented each other, making him look like a statue. His tie had loosened and strands of hair had escaped his perfect styling. With smoke billowing around him, Tyrell turned to Elliot and observed him for a moment. Then, he moved the cigarette from his lips, holding it in the other boy’s direction. Elliot stared at it. He had smoked a couple times out of curiosity, but it was by no means a habit of his. 

He took the offered cigarette from him anyway, brushing his fingers up against Tyrell’s when reaching for it. Breathing in an inhale of the addictive smoke, Elliot took his time exhaling it out slowly, watching the residue fill up the air around him. He glanced back at Tyrell who appeared to be staring at him.

They held the gaze for a couple minutes until Tyrell put his hand out, and Elliot passed the cigarette back to him. 

“I suppose we’ve got to be going. It’s late,” Tyrell said almost reluctantly, stomping the cigarette underneath one of his shoes. 

Elliot was hit again with another feeling of panic about not being able to go home but was calmed instantly in remembering that he was going with Tyrell. He nodded to cover up his emotional response. 

They got up at the same time from the bench, making their way towards the street. The escapade was already there. Elliot figured Tyrell had called for it while he had been taking his turn smoking. Both of them quickly stepped into the car, leaving the privacy of the abandoned playground behind.

Unsurprisingly, the ride maintained its silence. Halfway through the trip, Tyrell placed his hand in the middle seat face up. Taking the signal, Elliot hesitantly placed his hand lightly on top. Tyrell’s phone went off a couple times as it always did. It was probably his dad, but the calls went ignored every time. 

When they finally arrived at the Wellick house, Elliot’s own phone buzzed.

3:10 AM : Darlene  
Where are you?

Elliot was considering whether or not to answer when Tyrell opened his door. He quickly hopped out and began to follow the other boy up the driveway. As they got closer to the door, Elliot realized that Tyrell was steadily growing anxious. His fingers wouldn't stop twitching, and his steps grew less powerful. Elliot figured he was worried about whether his parents were home.

Stepping into the pristine house, they were met by the same woman who greeted them last time. She looked exhausted

“Mr. Wellick, your father and mother will be out for the rest of the night. They decided to get drinks with the Knowles parents,” she said, voice betraying her tiredness.

Tyrell visibly deflated.

“Good, good...” he said in response, grabbing Elliot’s wrist to tug him up the stairs.

They made their way through the familiar hallways, twisting and turning until they got to Tyrell’s room. It was just as immaculate as last time. The sound of fabric hitting the floor startled Elliot out of his scrutiny of the room. Tyrell’s tie had hit the floor. It appeared that he was also in the process of unbuttoning his shirt as he walked across the room, folding it neatly as he went. It figured that Tyrell was confident when it came to things like this. He had no reason not to be. 

Elliot still averted his eyes as Tyrell continued stripping on the way to the closet door. He disappeared for a few moments and returned only in a pair of soft pants similar to the ones he wore last time. His chest remained bare, the red nail marks still prominent against the paleness of his skin. Elliot didn't know how to respond. 

“Here are some sleeping clothes,” Tyrell said as he handed Elliot a pile of fabric, oblivious to Elliot’s current staring. 

Elliot looked down at the clothing in his hands, feeling slightly overwhelmed and unsure. 

Tyrell chuckled at his lost expression. 

“You can use the bathroom. There's a shower and anything that you could want in there,” he said softly, not wanting to worsen Elliot’s discomfort. 

Elliot nodded and made his way into the bathroom. Its appearance was similar to the rest of the house, and Elliot found himself staring at the opulent shower. He could feel the smoke from the cigarette layered on his skin and the grimy feeling of human touch from the party. Tyrell hadn't explicitly said anything about not taking a shower... Elliot considered going back to ask Tyrell if showering was okay, but he didn't want the possibility of interrupting him. In a split second decision, he decided to go ahead and shower. He would make it quick. 

He was in and out in less than 2 minutes, feeling uneasy about staying in there longer. It felt vaguely wrong to share such an intimate space with Tyrell. As he dried his hair with a towel that cost more than all of his clothes combined, Elliot realized he smelled exactly like Tyrell. He had used his shampoo and soap without a thought, but now he grew self-conscious. Would Tyrell be weirded out? Elliot began regretting his decision to shower in the first place. Tyrell might be mad at him. Elliot scolded himself. Tyrell wouldn't care. If he had cared that much, he would've stopped Elliot the moment he heard water running. 

Elliot slowly stepped back into the room after a minute of panicking, wearing an outfit exactly like the one he was given last time. He was painfully aware of the dampness of his hair. Tyrell, oblivious to Elliot's worries, was on his laptop, already having brushed the product out of his hair. Elliot stared at his natural hair as it flopped effortlessly over Tyrell's forehead. It had lost its perfect shape and was instead incredibly tousled. Elliot found himself liking this look better. While it didn't quite suit Tyrell's nature, it made him look younger. At the sound of Elliot's footsteps, Tyrell looked up and smiled, closing his laptop. He eyed his damp hair.

In response, Elliot eyed the floor. He figured that this was where he would be sleeping. 

“Elliot,” came a petulant sigh. 

Elliot looked up to see Tyrell still smiling. 

“You are not sleeping there. Seriously, come here,” he said, patting the place beside him.

Another spike of anxiety hit. As soon as it came, it passed. Elliot had come to the realization that he had done this before. Sure, it had only been for a couple of hours, but being in Tyrell’s bed was nothing new. He made his way slowly to the bed and lightly set his body down, lying incredibly still. Tyrell turned off the lights and plunging them into darkness. Elliot felt his eyesight adjusting as he got used to his surroundings. As he was orientating himself, he felt two arms reach around his waist. He took a sharp inhale of breath. Tyrell continued to manhandle Elliot until their bodies were flush together, Elliot’s clothed form against his bare chest.

“You smell like me,” he felt Tyrell say to the back of his neck, mouth curled into a smile.

Soon his exhales become deep with sleep. Elliot relaxed further into Tyrell’s grip and felt his own eyes grow heavy. The events of today had worn him out. He could think about all of this in the morning.

************************************************

The experience of waking up was more or less like the last time. It was surprisingly less awkward than Elliot had thought it would be. Tyrell had already been awake for hours and had placed a coffee next to Elliot, eliminating the weirdness of dealing with their proximity. Elliot was thankful. They spent the next hour in silence, lying next to each other and sipping their coffees. 

After an hour passed, Elliot cautiously mentioned that he should probably get home. Tyrell had looked slightly annoyed at that fact, but smiled anyway. He walked Elliot down to the door, thanking him the same way he did last time. He didn’t mention anything about his parents who had yet to make an appearance. Tyrell grasped Elliot's shoulder tightly as he was making his way out the door.

Elliot detached himself first, figuring it was time to give Tyrell his space. Tyrell didn’t look happy at this again but accepted it. He offered Elliot a ride, but he refused in favor of walking. It wouldn't take long. Most of it was consumed by him thinking aimlessly. For the first time, his thoughts weren’t scathing or anxious. They were simply flicking about, leaving no impression. When he finally arrived home, Elliot unlocked the door with his key, trying to make his movements quiet. He knew his efforts failed when he heard stomping footsteps coming down the stairs. 

“Elliot,” a frantic Darlene exclaimed as she reached the last step, looking frazzled. “I texted you.”

Elliot felt an immediate stab of guilt; he had never responded. 

“Where were you? I knew you were going out, but when I came back, you weren’t here. I asked mom where you were, and she said something about you not being allowed to come back here?” She looked concerned.

“She was in her moods. You know how she gets,” Elliot responded, desperate for the conversation to end. He started moving toward the stairs, but Darlene blocked him.

“But where were you?” Darlene insisted.

“Why does it matter?” Elliot blurted out, feeling a sudden surge of anger. “This is the first time you’ve cared.”

Darlene vaguely looked as if she had been slapped. Elliot hurriedly made his way past her stunned body and into his room. He immediately locked his door. Sure enough, three seconds later found Darlene pounding on his door and shouting at him, but Elliot ignored her. He didn’t have time for this. 

***********************************************

The rest of Elliot’s weekend was spent in his room, avoiding his family. Darlene would continuously come to the door, yelling to be let in, but she went ignored every time. There was no word from Tyrell. No late night phone calls, no text messages, nothing. Elliot felt strangely alone. Part of him wished Tyrell would contact him. Elliot knew that, logically, if he wanted to talk to Tyrell, he could just contact him himself. And he wanted to. But the overwhelming sense of panic stopped him every time. He had nothing to say. Would Tyrell even respond in the first place? What would they talk about? Saturday night would eventually have to come up and the intimacy they shared. Would Tyrell brush it off? What would happen?

The fear plagued Elliot, preventing him from taking action. It was so consuming that the weekend passed by in a haze, leaving him surprised when he looked at his phone to see that it was Monday morning. Just like every other day, he made his way downstairs hoping to avoid everyone. His hopes were wasted. Elliot was expecting to see his mom's wasted sleeping body or hear Darlene's yappy phone conversations but was instead met with the sight of his tired looking dad. What the hell was he doing here?

His dad slowly turned towards Elliot. So much for running for it. Elliot felt his heart clench in panic. Last time he had faced him... 

"Elliot," his dad greeted in his gravely voice. 

 Elliot's blood ran cold. He didn't want to deal with this. He couldn't deal with this. 

"Gosh, son, you don't have to look so scared," his father chuckled. 

Elliot's heart rate remained elevated. He knew what was coming. 

"I saw your grades last night," his dad continued, pouring himself a cup of coffee as he spoke.

He turned towards Elliot. 

"I'm really disappointed in you." 

"Dad, I'm trying..." Elliot said, trying and failing to keep his voice from shaking. 

"I'm trying," his dad mimed back at him, speaking with an exaggerated whine. "Please, you're pathetic." 

Elliot clenched his hands into fists but attempted to restrain himself. He had gone through this before. He could do it again. 

"Honestly, I'm the only one who works around here!" he suddenly shouted at full volume. "I work, I work, and I work. And what do I get? An alcoholic for a wife and a disappointment for a son." 

His face was slowly growing redder and redder with each sentence. 

"And don't even mention your sister. That Dark Army boyfriend of hers? A disgrace. In fact, this family is a disgrace." 

Elliot's anxiety continued to grow. His dad was getting sloppier. 

"I mean, I don't know what to do anymore," he continued shouting, simultaneously picking up his coffee cup. "You all don't appreciate anything I do!"

As punctuation, he threw his steaming cup of coffee in Elliot's direction. It hit directly above Elliot's head, spraying his body with steaming liquid and sharp glass shards. Through the hot brown liquid caught in his eyes, Elliot could see his dad moving towards him. Hands suddenly grasped his wrists tightly, fingers digging deep into his skin. 

"You're a fucking disappointment," he said venomously. 

It was redundant, but it did the job. Elliot's body began to shake. 

"What the hell..." he heard Darlene say as she entered the kitchen. She looked at Elliot and then book at their dad. 

"What did you do?" Darlene suddenly screamed. She looked furious. "Dad, what the hell?"

Elliot didn't want to stick around for this. He quickly ran the stairs and into his room. He walked over to his mirror. His clothes were drenched in the now cooling liquid. Luckily, they were only black. His face, however, bore the worst of the damage. The whole left side of his face was red and blistered. His hair was also soaked and covered in glass shards. The shards had only cut his hands. Elliot started at the blood for a long time. He couldn't go to school like this. He just couldn't. 

He then locked himself in his bathroom, slamming the door. Elliot rushed to the shower, turning it on scalding. He had to get this stuff off of him. He needed to get this stuff off of him. Under the heated spray of the water, Elliot slid down onto the floor, defeated. 

***************************************************************************************

A sound woke Elliot up. For a moment, he was disoriented. Everything came to him all at once. His dad, the shouting, the flaming coffee. His face and hands still throbbed, aching with the pain of abuse. After his shower, he had changed into the sweater that Tyrell had given him when he slept over. Calmed by its smell and tired from everything that had happened, Elliot had fallen into a restless sleep.

The sound that woke Elliot came again. It turned out to be a knocking at his door. Eliot was confused to who would even be here. Darlene would be at school, his dad would be at work... The only option left was his mom.

Slowly moving his aching body, Elliot got up from his bed, clenching his hands in the fabric of the sweater to ground him. The knocking persisted. 

"Okay, okay..." Elliot muttered softly, walking towards his door. He unlocked it and reached for the handle, opening it with a hiss. The pressure was rough on his hands.

"Elliot...oh..." 

Elliot's eyes shot upwards from his hands to be met with the face of Tyrell. He looked stunned.

"Tyrell..." Elliot said in response. What was he doing here? He became painfully aware about how he must look. His hair was more than likely a mess not to mention the effect the coffee had on his skin. And why did Elliot even care what he looked like in the first place?

Tyrell lifted his hand up and rested his fingers against the blistered skin on Elliot's face. 

"What happened?" he said quietly, his voice laced with an undertone of anger.

"Nothing. It was just an accident," Elliot said hurriedly, not wanting to burden Tyrell.

Tyrell eyed Elliot's face and hands.

"That's not nothing, Elliot."

Elliot didn't say anything. 

"Was it your mother? Your sister? Your dad?" 

After Elliot flinched at the last name, Tyrell was sure.

"I'll kill him," he said suddenly and violently. 

What?

"He touched you. He can't touch you like that," he raved, his hands balling into fists.

Elliot stared at Tyrell's heavy breathing figure in shock.

"He can't do that," he repeated, running his hand roughly through his hair.

"It's okay," Elliot said quietly, not wanting to further aggravate Tyrell.

That was apparently not the right thing to say. 

"It's not okay!" he shouted violently, pointing erratically towards the fingerprint shaped bruise marks around Elliot's wrists. 

Elliot flinched and took a tiny step back. 

Seeing Elliot's response, Tyrell immediately calmed down. 

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he repeated over and over again, running his hand through his disheveled hair again. "I didn't mean to do that. I'm sorry."

After observing him for a moment, Elliot realized that he was genuinely apologizing. He really did feel bad. The reaction hadn't really even bothered Elliot that much. It just surprised him.

"That was incredibly rude of me. I just lost control of myself," he continued, beginning to pace through Elliot's room. "I didn't mean what I said. I'm sorry."

Elliot nodded, showing that he understood.

"You know he shouldn't be allowed to treat you like that, right?" he said in almost a whisper, stopping his pacing and moving closer to Elliot.

Elliot nodded again.

"I'm just angry that he did that to you. You deserve better than that. More than that," he continued softly, drifting into Elliot's personal space. 

Elliot stayed silent and in place. 

As soon as they came within touching distance, Tyrell reached for Elliot's unblemished cheek, pulling him closer. He then set his forehead lightly against his, eyes fluttering closed as their skin came in contact. He let out an exhale of breath that fell softly on Elliot's face, cooling the still aggravated skin. He smelled of mint. 

Elliot stared at Tyrell's close face. His eyes remained closed, but his face was flushed. The bags under his eyes were as prominent as ever.

Did he really have a clue who this man was? One second there was a soft boy laying in bed and holding Elliot's hand. Then there was the vulnerable boy with the red marks on his chest and berating himself in a locker mirror. Now, there was a new boy, a slightly frightening one who threatened to kill his so-called friends as well as Elliot's father. 

Which one was real? Were any of them real? Did it even matter? 

Elliot was hopelessly confused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So??? It took me absolutely forever to write this so I hope you liked it. My version of Elliot's dad is slightly more violent (obviously) than insane. His sanity will certainly be in question though. Anyways, please comment if you wish and enjoy your morning/day/evening/night regardless.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... the story continues. I have no idea what I'm even doing anymore, but I hope you like this chapter regardless. I just don't know. I kind of had an existential crisis and am uploading this while riding in a car. Please excuse any mistakes. 
> 
> DISCLAIMER: THIS STORY IS NOT ROMANTICIZING MENTAL ILLNESS. Just wanted to make that clear. It is not something to be fluffed over or simply solved by a relationship. Trust me, I know. The presence of Tyrell is just meant to lessen the symptoms, not stop the illness. Just wanted to make that very very clear. Thank you.

Tyrell stayed over for a few hours. They actually didn’t end up talking much after that initial conversation. Instead, Tyrell settled quietly at Elliot’s desk to do his homework while Elliot laid on his bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. The room was only filled with the scratching of Tyrell’s pencil and his breathing. It was nice. And of course it had to be ruined.

“Elliot, I wanted to see if you were…” Darlene started as she barged into his room without knocking. She stopped talking immediately when she saw Tyrell. 

“Why are you here?” she said bluntly after a moment of silence. 

Tyrell stood up and walked over to her.

“Tyrell Wellick,” he introduced himself politely, holding out his hand. 

Darlene stared at it, not taking the hand. 

“I know who you are. Elliot, why is he here?” she continued as if Tyrell hadn’t even spoken, focusing on her brother.

Thankfully, Tyrell decided to answer for Elliot.

“I’m a friend of Elliot’s,” he said simply, eyeing Darlene with something akin to amusement.

Darlene looked slightly angry at his response and was about to say something when Elliot decided to speak up.

“Please leave, Darlene,” he said quietly.

His sister looked shocked but complied quickly. When she reached Elliot’s door, she looked back at the two of them curiously. After a minute, she reluctantly tore her gaze away and walked into the hallway. 

“I should probably get going,” Tyrell admitted a minute after she left. “I have to some business things to take care of.”

Elliot nodded, figuring Tyrell must be facing some repercussions for what happened at the party. However, his understanding didn’t prevent the pain of longing that took over his body. For once, he didn’t want to be alone. But he understood that Tyrell had more important things to do; things that went beyond Elliot and the instability of his brain.

By the time Tyrell had packed up all his stuff and Elliot had walked him down the stairs, the black escapade was outside. Luckily, they weren’t intercepted by Elliot’s mom or dad when they made their way out the door. Tyrell stopped walking halfway from the car. 

“Thank you for letting me stay,” he said, staring into Elliot’s eyes. Technically, Elliot didn’t really have a say as Tyrell had just decided to come over, but he supposed it was the sentiment behind the words that mattered. 

“Thank you for everything,” Elliot decided to respond, hoping it covered just how much Tyrell actually helped him.

He seemed to get what Elliot was saying. 

Slowly, he reached for Elliot, wrapping his arms tightly around his body.

“Call me if anything else happens,” he whispered in Elliot’s ear, causing goosebumps to erupt over his arms.

“Okay,” Elliot responded unconvincingly. Tyrell noticed and pulled back.

“Seriously, if anyone touches you, you call me. Understand?” he said, voice incredibly serious. 

Elliot nodded his head quickly. Tyrell’s tense position relaxed.

“Good,” he exhaled in a breath. 

He made his way to the escapade and turn back towards to Elliot. 

“Be careful, Elliot,” he said finally, disappearing into the car.

Elliot continued to watch the car until it was out of view. Turning back to the house, he saw the curtains of Darlene’s window hurriedly closing. She had seen everything. It was no surprise when she cornered him on his way to his room.

“Why was he here?” she asked, repeating her early question.

Elliot decided not to answer. 

“Elliot, do you know who he is? Who his family is?”

Elliot nodded. Darlene looked angrier. 

“Then you know to stay away from him.”

Elliot was going to ask her why but decided it was better to accept her reasoning with silence. Darlene seemed to think Elliot was taking her statement to heart.

“Do you want something for your face?” she said, suddenly changing the subject.

“I’ll fine,” Elliot responded, making his way past her into his room. He quickly got ready for bed and settled down for yet another restless night of sleep. Except this time it wasn’t his own thoughts that were haunting him; it was Tyrell. If given the chance, would Tyrell actually kill his father or someone else? Elliot tried to envision it. It seemed like a possibility. Oddly enough, this didn’t scare him. Tyrell had control and self-restraint. He wasn’t some thoughtless serial murder. Yet, the image of Tyrell with his hands coated in blood plagued his restless dreams.

***************************************************************************************************************

Elliot woke up at 4 am and found he couldn’t go back to sleep. Feeling defeated and exhausted, he decided to get ready for school and head out early. This way, his dad, mom, and Darlene could all be avoided. Wearing his black hoodie pulled up, Elliot walked aimlessly through the dimly lit streets for the next two hours. It was oddly peaceful. The streets were completely deserted and silent except for the sound of Elliot’s footfalls. 

The two hours passed in a haze, and it inevitably came time for Elliot to go to school. Taking his time, Elliot barely made it in at the warning bell, choosing to forgo his locker and simply go to class. Unsurprisingly, his first classes were dull. It was the same monotonous routine: teacher tries to hopelessly engage students; apathetic teens don’t respond. It was the same over and over again. Elliot had lost all hope in that changing. 

After the bell rang for the end of the period, Elliot realized he needed to go to his locker. He hurriedly made his way past the crowds of screeching teens. Once he reached his locker, he tried to grab all of his books as quickly as he could, completely missing the appearance of another body beside him. He jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder. 

A voice chuckled. 

“There’s no need to be scared, Elliot,” the voice teased. 

Elliot’s head whipped around to meet the smiling face of Tyrell. His tense shoulders sank immediately. 

“Your face looks much better,” he said absent-mindedly, reaching his hand up to graze Elliot’s cheek.

Elliot shivered.

“I thought I would walk you to statistics. Is that okay?” Tyrell continued, having yet to remove his fingers from Elliot’s face.

Elliot nodded, and Tyrell’s hand fell back to his side.

They began to walk down the hall in silence, both observing the rushing crowd around them. When they reached the classroom, Tyrell insisted that Elliot walk through the door first and allowed him to lead them to their now usual seats. They didn’t speak after that or for the rest of class. At various moments, Elliot felt Tyrell observing him, but he didn’t allow it to distract him this time. There was only so little he could screw up, and after his dad’s outburst, he didn’t want to risk his grades slipping any lower. 

After a half hour of torturous lectures, the bell rang, ending their time together. Tyrell pulled his stuff together, turning to Elliot and looking at him closely. 

“Are you okay?” he asked softly. 

Honestly, Elliot didn’t know the answer to that question anymore. 

“I’m fine,” he decided to say in response. It was just easier. 

Tyrell looked at him doubtfully. 

“No, you’re not,” he observed after a moment. “If you need anything, please tell me okay? Anything you want.”

Elliot was slightly overwhelmed by all that encompassed, but the fact that Tyrell actually cared and was willing to help brought him some relief. 

“Thank you,” he responded quietly, not looking Tyrell in the eye.

Tyrell sighed but started to make his way towards the door anyway.

“I’ll see you, Elliot,” he said reluctantly as he walked out the door, giving Elliot one last lingering look before going out of sight. 

Elliot felt a pang of loss after he left.

***********************************************************************************************************

It all went to hell next period. Or rather, things went from one level of hell to a deeper level of hell.

Elliot honestly had no idea what started everything. One minute he was staring down at his history textbook and the next his body started shaking. Elliot tried to calm himself down, not understanding what was going on.

You’re fine. It’s fine. Everything’s fine. His mind repeated the mantra on a loop, becoming meaningless with each repetition. 

Everything was not fine. In fact, everything was shit. Elliot’s mind began to go on a tail spin. His mind focused on his family and Tyrell. They hate you his mind whispered. You mean nothing to them. You’re worthless. Even though it wasn’t true, Elliot was hit with the sudden despairing feeling of loneliness. His dad was right; he was pathetic.

The teacher had assigned all of the students busy work that they were ignoring, and the teacher herself was on her phone so Elliot decided it was safe to make a break for it. Pulling his hood up and clenching his fists, he quickly made his way out of the classroom and into the nearest bathroom, locking the bolt on the door as he entered. Elliot yanked his hood off and stood in front of one of the many mirrors, staring at his reflection. 

Pathetic his father’s voice repeated in his mind, becoming a meaningless chant. Pathetic, pathetic, pathetic, pathetic, pathetic, pathetic, pathetic, pathetic, pathetic, pathetic, pathetic….

“Shut up,” Elliot spoke into the silence, desperate for his mind to stop. “Shut up.”

The voice didn’t shut up. It kept going and going, swirling through Elliot’s mind and consuming his brain. Elliot slid down the tiled wall, gripping his hair tightly in both hands. What was happening to him? Why couldn’t he stop this? He had no control.

After about twenty minutes, the shaking subsided. As if on cue, the bell rang, dismissing everyone from class. Elliot pulled his hood back up and made his way back to the now empty history room. Even the teacher was gone. Glad no one was concerned. 

Lunch was next. Elliot was still feeling slightly shaky and off. Something was definitely wrong. When he arrived at his usual table, he found Tyrell already sitting there. Tyrell’s face looked up at him, mouth poised to say something, but it immediately shut after taking in Elliot. He stood up.

“Come with me,” he said while grasping onto Elliot’s wrist and tugging him into the direction of the cafeteria doors. 

Elliot found himself feeling lost as Tyrell continued to drag him through the school with no clear direction. He was about to about to ask where exactly they were going when Tyrell opened a door and brought them to a halt. They appeared to be at the stadium.

Elliot had actually never been here. He had no reason to as he skipped all the football games and avoided all celebrations that ever took place here. Tyrell continued tugging on his wrist after the momentary halt, pulling him over to a shady area underneath some bleachers. 

“Sit here,” Tyrell commanded, maintaining a gentleness in his voice. 

Elliot did as he said, taking a seat immediately. Tyrell, meanwhile, sat right in front of Elliot, leaving about three inches between their crossed legs. For a couple minutes, he stared at Elliot, scrutinizing his appearance and searching for any tells about what might be wrong. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Tyrell offered softly, maintaining his focused stare. 

Elliot shook his head. 

“Okay,” Tyrell said. Elliot was surprised. He thought Tyrell would try to fight it. After a few more minutes of staring, the silence was broken.

“Come here,” Tyrell commanded again, though even more gentler than last time. Elliot hesitantly moved himself over. Gripping Elliot’s shoulders, Tyrell softly moved the other boy’s body downwards, allowing Elliot’s head to fall into his lap. Slowly, he moved one of his hands towards Elliot’s hair, knotting his hand through the thick strands. Elliot relaxed instantly. Calmed by the rhythm of the hands in his hair, his heart beat began to deaccelerate.

Suddenly, Elliot felt an earbud being pushed into his ear. Classical piano music flowed through the headphones, forming a melody he never heard before. Turning his head up towards Tyrell, Elliot noticed that he too had a headphone in his ear and had his eyes closed. Apparently, this was what he liked to listen to. 

They sat in silence, listening to the compositions of men long since dead. Time slowed and Elliot was lulled into almost a meditative state, losing all sense of the world that surrounded them. The peace was brought to an end by the bell. Tyrell picked himself up first, brushing off the dirt from the ground that had gotten on his clothes. Then, he pulled up Elliot, taking his headphones back and moving a strand of Elliot’s loose hair behind his ear.

“You’re a mess, you know that?” he said, voice almost fond. 

Elliot didn’t know how to respond to that so he just nodded. Tyrell laughed in response. Slowly, they both made their way back into the school, reluctant to go to their classes.

“Well,” Tyrell spoke first. “Take care, Elliot.”

There was no accompanying touch this time. He was simply gone, swept into the mass of bodies in the hallway. Elliot felt vaguely disappointed but suppressed it, choosing to continue onwards to his next class. 

*********************************************************************************************************

He met Tyrell again on the way home. 

“Elliot,” he greeted. 

They walked for a moment without speaking. 

“I don’t think you should go home yet,” Tyrell said quietly.

Elliot’s eyes shot over to him.

“Why?” he asked curiously. 

Tyrell shrugged. They continued walking for a couple minutes, and Tyrell walked past the turn of Elliot’s neighborhood. Elliot was going to say something but figured it would just be better to follow Tyrell. There was nothing waiting for him at home. What was the point of going back now?

They walked for thirty more minutes until they came upon a subway entrance. Tyrell paid with cash for both of their tickets and lead Elliot onto the first train that came into the station. The car was packed with workers and students all desperate to go home. Gripping Elliot’s hand, Tyrell led him over to a secluded corner, grabbing hold of the pole with one hand and keeping Elliot's hand in the other. Elliot didn’t know how many stops passed before they got off. Tyrell was completely in control.

They got off the subway station and found themselves engulfed by the crowds of people. On both sides, Elliot was pushed and shoved by other people, but Tyrell remained the barrier in front, keeping him from getting lost in throngs of people. The crowd started thinning as they walked further and further. Elliot expected them to come to a stop at some point but was surprised to find that they just kept walking. Tyrell kept his grip on Elliot’s hand, tugging him through random streets. He twisted them in every direction with no clear pattern, disorientating Elliot completely. He had no idea where they were, and he had lived in this city his whole life. 

After about an hour of just walking in silence, Tyrell stopped in the middle of some nameless street and looked at Elliot. 

“Are you feeling better?” he said.

Elliot felt confusion at first but realized that Tyrell had led him away in hopes of making him feel better. Surprisingly, it had worked. Elliot was far away from everything he knew, and the abundance of stimulation around him had prevented him from actually thinking about anything.

“Yes,” Elliot replied honestly, surprised that he was telling the truth.

Tyrell seemed to believe him and smiled. 

“Good,” he said. He looked at his phone. “You should probably get home though. Your sister seemed like she would be concerned.” 

Elliot figured he was right although he still didn’t understand why Darlene was suddenly caring about everything. Instead of going back on the subway, Tyrell called for a car which came immediately. The ride was silent once again, and Tyrell didn’t attempt to touch him. Piano music similar to the kind that Tyrell was listening to early flowed through the speakers, filling the quietness with various compositions. 

“Thank you,” Elliot said once again once the car reached his house.

Tyrell didn’t respond, but he did place his hand on the back of Elliot’s neck. He stared at him for a minute. 

“Call me if you need anything,” he reminded Elliot, finally pulling away. 

Elliot gave a slight nod. 

“You’re worth more than them. Remember that,” Tyrell said suddenly as Elliot was beginning to walk up the driveway. 

Elliot let the confusion he was feeling show on his face, but Tyrell had already gotten into the car. He walked up the driveway, thinking about what Tyrell had said and what he had done for him. Elliot felt a pang of guilt. What had he done for Tyrell? Tyrell had already offered Elliot so much and was getting absolutely nothing in return. Why did he even like Elliot? It made no sense. Their relationship in general made no sense. In fact, what was their relationship?

The weirdness of it all hit Elliot all at once. With their level of intimacy, you’d think they’d be dating. Elliot’s heart dropped. Were they dating? What did people even do when they dated? Was he supposed to have kissed Tyrell already? Did he want to? This whole situation was just strange. He still didn’t know much about Tyrell yet he had let him drag him all over the city and stay in his room. He had already slept with him (literally).

Panic gripped Elliot as it all hit him. He walked up the house stairs in a daze. When he reached his room, he came to a decision. He would ignore Tyrell for the next few days. Well, maybe not ignore but simply avoid. Maybe not seeing him would allow Elliot the clarity he needed to understand everything going on around him. It may also relieve the guilt Elliot felt when thinking about all Tyrell had done for him. It would be painful and hard, but it had to be done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elliot, my sweet child. That's not going to work. Still not sure about this chapter (seriously not fishing for compliments here I honestly don't know). I'll probably end up editing this in some way later. Anyways, I just wanted to get this up so kudos, comment, or even criticize if you want. I don't judge.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THAT FINALE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (don't worry, no spoilers)  
> Now that that's over with, hello and welcome back. I am still here. Sorry for the later update. Been dealing with some stuff and also grasping what went down in that finale. It kind of inspired me to write more so here we are. This chapter is on the shorter side so I hope that's okay. Thank you all for continuously being amazing and giving this story your support. Hope it is good *crosses fingers* (this is what should have gone down in the finale)

It’s okay. You’re okay. Calm down.

Elliot repeated the mantra in his head as he cautiously made his way down the hallway. He still wasn’t sure about the events of yesterday. It seemed too odd to be true. Had Tyrell really taken him around New York City? It was so random and strange. He, out of people, seemed to be the kind to hate the city. Anyways, all of that didn’t matter. He was resolute in his choice to avoid Tyrell. He realized that the choice may seem petty or illogical, but at this point, it was all he had. He needed clarity and to be alone.

Elliot began the morning by leaving early again, avoiding the chance of Tyrell offering him a ride. Instead of making his way to his locker as usual, he hid in the very back of the library. He suffered in the loudness of his classmates, hearing them complain about pointless assignments and teachers. It was incredibly distracting but just what Elliot needed. Between classes, he immersed himself in the crowd, making sure he was directly in the middle. Surrounded by huge groups of people on either side, there was no possible way for Tyrell to approach him. When statistics came, Elliot skipped the class entirely. He went to the nurse and claimed he wasn’t feeling well, spending all of class time lying in a cot at the back of the room. He felt bad about lying, but it was necessary. 

Lunch was also spent in the library, huddling behind stacks of books. He thought he saw Tyrell enter at some point and appear to be looking for someone, but he wasn’t sure. Elliot had to admit that he missed the presence of the other boy. He stopped that train of thought as soon as it started. 

The rest of the day was the same: avoiding, hiding, and pretending. It actually wasn’t that hard for Elliot, but there was a panging sense of loss that continued to persist throughout the day. After years of suppressing emotions, he had gotten used to hollow feeling it left behind. This was nothing new. He could handle this. 

At the end of the day, Elliot walked to the parking lot to meet Darlene. He couldn't have Tyrell trying to walk him home today. 

Elliot coughed upon reaching Darlene. She and boyfriend were making out yet again, completely oblivious to his presence. 

Darlene finally resurfaced and looked at him annoyed. 

“I need a ride,” Elliot said bluntly.

Darlene looked confused. 

“You walk home every day. Why would you need a ride?”

Elliot didn’t know how to answer that so he lied.

“I have a lot of homework.”

Darlene looked skeptical.

“Please,” Elliot added on, trying to appear stressed.

Darlene sighed.

“Fine. I’ll drop you off but that’s it. No detours or stops. I have things to do.” 

Elliot figured that that was as nice as Darlene was going to get to being nice. 

She kissed her boyfriend one last time and got into the car with Elliot. The ride was completely silent as Darlene simultaneously texted and drove. Elliot knew saying something wouldn’t change her so he kept his mouth shut.

“Out,” she finally said when they reach the house. 

Elliot hurriedly got out in time for Darlene to speed off. Making his way to the house, Elliot finally felt a wave of relief crash over him. He had been able to avoid Tyrell all day without any problems. However, his avoidance didn’t stop him from pulling on Tyrell’s sweater when he got up to his room. Immediately the feel and smell of the clothing filled the hollowness that had pervading his being all day. 

The rest of the night was spent trying and failing to forget the Tyrell situation. Surprisingly, there were no text messages or calls from Tyrell. Elliot had been expecting something, any form of contact. There was nothing. Again, Elliot felt relief and hollowness. 

Around 10, Elliot heard a sound outside. It was bound to be his sister’s boyfriend. He had snuck in so many times Elliot lost count. He ignored the sound and continued hacking his latest victim Patrick Snyder: serial adulterer and apparently a stripper on the side of being a teacher. 

The noise continued. Elliot listened closer. Something was hitting his window. Would Darlene’s boyfriend seriously be hitting the wrong window? He had been there so many times that it seemed impossible that that would happen. 

Elliot waited a few more minutes, but the noise persisted. Confused, he got up from his bed and made his way towards the window. Slowly moving the curtains back, Elliot was shocked to find the image of Tyrell. What the hell was he doing here? 

Tyrell motioned for Elliot to come to him. Elliot’s anxiety hit. What was he supposed to do? What was he supposed to say? He had been planning on not seeing or talking to Tyrell for weeks. Yet, he was here now. Was he expecting something? 

Elliot reluctantly made his way down the stairs, ignoring the drunk mumblings of his mother and walking out to meet Tyrell.

“Elliot,” Tyrell greeted as if no time had been spent apart. He reached out his arm to grasp Elliot’s shoulder, but Elliot quickly backed away, leaving the arm dangling in the air. Tyrell’s disappointment showed on his face.

“I didn’t see you today,” Tyrell continued. 

Elliot remained silent. 

“Were you avoiding me?” Tyrell said, sounding confused rather than angry. 

Elliot still didn’t respond. 

“Did I do something wrong? Something to make you uncomfortable?”

Elliot shook his head. Tyrell looked more concerned. 

“Please tell me what’s wrong. Can I help? Is there anything I can do?” Tyrell offered, rambling slightly which was unlike him. 

Elliot stayed silent for a moment but then decided that he couldn’t stay silent forever.

“This confuses me,” he replied honestly. 

Tyrell looked perplexed. 

“What is there to be confused about?”

“This,” Elliot motioned to the space in between them. “You.”

“Me?” Tyrell responded.

“I don’t understand you,” Elliot began, everything finally spilling out, “I don’t understand what’s going on here. What am I to you? What are we?”

Tyrell looked slightly shocked at the amount Elliot was saying but took a step closer to him. 

“What do you want us to be?” he said slowly. 

Elliot shrugged.

“I think you know what I want us to be,” Tyrell added, taking another step closer. Elliot’s heart rate spiked. “I haven’t exactly been… subtle in my efforts.”

Elliot tried to take a step back but found his back against a fence. 

“The question is: what do you want?”

To be honest, Elliot had no freaking clue. Nothing made sense to him. Why would Tyrell want him?

Tyrell chuckled. 

“I can see how skittish you are. You’re probably wondering why I would want you, yes?”

It was horrifying how easily Tyrell could read him.

“Oh, Elliot,” he said quietly, taking another tantalizing step closer. “You have no idea, do you? How intoxicating you are?” 

The back of Elliot’s neck heated up.

“You… everything about you is consuming. Addicting. Do you really not know?” Tyrell asked seriously as if appalled that Elliot didn’t get anything that he was saying. 

Elliot shook his head. 

Tyrell let out a sigh. 

“You.. you’re everything,” Tyrell exhaled, sounding overwhelmed. He took the last step towards Elliot so the tips of their shoes were touching. “Do you understand me?”

The last words were said with anger but incredible softness. It almost pained Elliot. He nodded. Taking his response, Tyrell moved his hand up to cup Elliot’s cheek.  
“Everything,” he repeated softly, leaning in closer so their chests were touching. “Absolutely everything.”

With the last word as punctuation, he leaned in even further and placed his lips softly on Elliot’s. Elliot felt an immediate sense of panic. This was what he had been worried about. Afraid of. What was he supposed to do? Where were his hands supposed to go? Was his mouth to stay closed or open?

“Elliot, relax,” Tyrell murmured against the other boy’s unmoving lips

The words had an immediate effect on him. Letting the tension flow away from his body, Elliot loosened his posture and began to move his lips back in turn. Tyrell’s response was automatic. His hand moved from Elliot’s cheek up into his hair, moving his fingers slowly through the thick strands. With his other, he moved himself even closer to Elliot, pinning the other boy against the back of the fence. There was no opening of the mouths, no tongues, or no wandering hands. 

After about a minute, Tyrell pulled back, resting his forehead against Elliot’s. The anxiety didn’t go away. 

“I don’t… I mean I can’t...” Elliot tried to speak but nothing that came out made sense. He was trying to make it clear to Tyrell that it wasn’t going to go further than this. 

“I know,” Tyrell responded, warm breath falling on Elliot’s lips. “That’s not what I want if it’s not what you want.”

Elliot felt an immediate weight lifted off of him. Tyrell didn’t expect anything more from him. 

“Thank you,” Elliot said, feeling like it was the right thing to say. 

“There’s nothing to thank me for, Elliot,” Tyrell responded, a hint of humor in his voice. 

Elliot nodded, anxious about what was going to happen next.

“This is okay, right?” Tyrell asked, seeing discomfort start to creep into Elliot’s body.

Elliot nodded again. 

“Good,” Tyrell responded. “I’ve been wanting to do this for too long.”

Tyrell pulled Elliot back into his arms again and connected their lips. It was less hesitant than the first kiss and certainly longer, but no less sweet. Tyrell seemed to understand Elliot’s usual repulsiveness towards intense intimacy.

A few more minutes passed until Elliot was the one to pull back. Tyrell tried to follow his mouth as he pulled away, but Elliot put enough space in between them that he couldn’t be reached. Tyrell huffed but didn’t look angry. 

A light passed over both of them. Elliot's head snapped towards the light. It was his dad.

"Hide," he said urgently to Tyrell. 

Tyrell didn't ask any questions and just went along when Elliot dragged him behind the corner of the house. There was the sound of a car door slamming and grumbling as footsteps made their way up the driveway. Elliot's heart rate picked up, but his dad continued walking until he got inside. 

"He'll never hurt you again," Tyrell's voice said right next to Elliot's ear.

Elliot looked over to him and found Tyrell looking murderous. He seemed to be staring daggers at his dad's car as if it was the one who had hurt Elliot.

"No one will ever hurt you again," Tyrell continued, sounding sure of himself. Elliot didn't want to question what he would do so he just kept quiet. 

They stood there for a few more minutes to ensure that Elliot's dad was in the house and distracted before daring to move from the dark corner they had settled in. 

“I should probably go,” Elliot said awkwardly after a moment of silence, hesitant to leave. 

Tyrell nodded.

“As should I,” he said, starting to walk down the driveway. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

As Tyrell walked away, Elliot was hit with the sudden need to say something; to understand some part of what was going on between them.

“What are we?” he cautiously called out to the walking body.

Tyrell turned and looked at Elliot thoughtfully. 

“Let’s just say that you’re mine,” Tyrell said after a moment of thinking, turning away from the house and into the dark streets. 

Elliot thought over Tyrell’s words as he walked back into the house and into his room. It sounded almost predatory, but he was sure Tyrell didn’t mean it that way. It was similar not to attach labels to whatever this was. From what Elliot saw, labels only led to disaster. Husband, wife, boyfriend, girlfriend… They all brought disaster or pain to the people involved. To simply be considered someone’s was enough for him.

A knock came at Elliot's door. 

"Darlene, I don't want to..." Elliot's voice trailed off as he saw his dad standing in the doorway.

"Who was that boy?" his dad asked, words spoken incredibly slow. 

"Who?" Elliot asked, trying to play dumb.

"You don't think I saw him? Please. Of course I did. Now, who is?" his father asked sternly.

"Tyrell Wellick," Elliot said quickly anxious for his dad to leave.

His dad looked thoughtful for a moment and then nodded. 

"At least he's not in the Dark Army..." his dad mumbled, leaving the doorway and walking down the hall. 

Elliot was very confused about what just happened but just decided to be thankful that nothing happened. He was going to text Tyrell before he went to bed, but he had no idea what to say so he didn't. They would talk tomorrow. Thinking about it now, Elliot had no idea how that was going to go. His plan for ignoring Tyrell certainly hadn't worked so it was probably better just to go in with nothing at all. Elliot knew nothing about being someone's or having someone else in return. Apparently, he was going to find out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So??? Tyrell is going to be very possessive and kind of creepy FWI but in a good and acceptable way. Kudos, comment, or whatever you'd like. I love hearing anything from you all if you have time. Also, ignore any grammar mistakes. Thanks!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah!!! Thank you so much for the response to the last chapter! I'm so glad you all are liking it. I know a lot of us are desperate for more tyrelliot so here you go. Fair warning, this chapter is pretty dramatic and not very fluffy. I promise that will come in time. Anyways, thank you all for your continued support. It is appreciated more than you know.

The next few days were surprisingly free of Tyrell. Elliot had expected something: a phone call, text message, random visit, anything. Given the nature of their last conversation and how bad Tyrell said he had wanted this, Elliot was momentously confused to why there was radio silence now. Part of his brain whispered that he was the one causing the problem, but he immediately shut that down. He couldn’t have done anything wrong already. Could he?

His questions were answered the next day before school. There had been no black escalade that morning or wandering shadows. It was only when Elliot was in the library that he finally saw Tyrell.

“Hey,” he greeted, setting his stuff down casually on the table as if no time had passed, and they had been speaking for the last four days.

“Hi,” Elliot greeted cautiously, still unsure about handle things. Was he supposed to kiss Tyrell? Hug him?

The worries in Elliot’s mind were soothed when Tyrell slowly took his hand and squeezed it. 

“Sorry I haven’t been around. My dad has had me working on some stuff,” he said apologetically. He seemed sincere, but Elliot knew there was something else going on. Even at his busiest, Tyrell managed to contact Elliot in some way. 

“Is something wrong?” Elliot said bluntly, wanting to skip the masking that Tyrell seemed to put on for everyone else. 

Tyrell sighed.

“My dad is trying to set me up.”

Elliot looked at him confused. Set him up for failure? That didn’t seem like Carter Wellick.

“With women,” he clarified, seeing the expression on Elliot’s face. “He wants me to start dating one of the daughters of his business partners.”

Oh. Elliot could see the issue.

“That’s where I’ve been all weekend. I’ve tried placating him by going on a couple of dates and flirting, but he isn’t having it. He wants me to choose one and eventually marry her like he did. That way there would be another heir to the company.”

Elliot’s mind clung to the fact that Tyrell had been going on other dates, but he tried to focus on the fact that Tyrell had no desire to do any of this. 

“That’s why I need you to meet my family,” Tyrell continued. 

Elliot’s brain stopped.

“I’ve already met them,” he said, remembering the disastrous night of the party. 

“Yes, you met them as a friend from school not as… what we are now,” Tyrell said slowly, moving his thumb against the back of Elliot’s hand. 

Elliot stared at it.

“You really don’t have to,” Tyrell continued. “I just figured it would be the way to finally get him off my back. And I know it’s not fair to you that I’ve been going on these dates…”

“I’ll do it,” Elliot blurted out. 

Tyrell smiled. 

“Great. I’ll set it up for Thursday night, okay?”

Elliot’s chance to respond was cut off by the first bell. Tyrell squeezed his hand again and stood up.

“I’ll be seeing you,” he said with a slight wave, leaving Elliot behind.

Elliot was left wondering what he had gotten himself into. 

*********************************************************************************************************************************

Thursday came quickly. The week was uneventful. There were no attempted kisses, no rants from his dad, or confrontations from Darlene. It was oddly peaceful. Perhaps this should have been an omen. Nothing good ever happened in Elliot’s life without consequence.

The evening started out well enough. Tyrell provided Elliot with another suit, similar to the last one and called a car to pick him up. Elliot expected Tyrell to be in the car, but it turned out to be empty. It was probably better that way as now Eliot had time think about how all of this was going to go down.

What did you even talk about to someone else’s parents? Sports? Elliot knew nothing about that, and he was sure neither of the Wellicks cared about that. And how was he supposed to act around these people knowing their deepest secrets? The cheating, the lying, the illegal things they’ve done in their business… 

Elliot’s thought process came to a halt when the car stopped outside the Wellick house. It looked the same: immaculate, perfect, and way too clean. Elliot was unsure how to get into the house. Was the front door appropriate?

As if hearing his thoughts, the front door swung open, and the figure of Tyrell began to walk towards him.

“Elliot,” he greeted happily yet somewhat anxious. Considering the position he was in, Elliot couldn’t blame him. 

Once he was in reach, they took a minute to observe each other. 

“You look good,” Tyrell said, eyeing him appreciatively. 

Elliot nodded in response, overwhelmed.

“Don’t be modest,” Tyrell said with a laugh. He lifted his fingers to Elliot’s hair and let them muse through the disheveled strands. 

Despite the comfort that it brought him, Elliot couldn’t help but feel the anxiety about tonight bubbling over. Tyrell seemed to notice. 

“Hey,” he said quietly, directing Elliot’s wandering eyes back to him. “It’s going to be alright. You’re free to leave anytime, okay? We don’t even have to do this.”

Elliot felt sick at the thought of having to sit down with the very man who slapped Tyrell and the women who would condone that behavior. Also hit with the image of a charming Tyrell going on dates with countless women, wearing the ever-present mask. That couldn’t happen.

“No,” Elliot said with a slight amount of confidence. “I want to do this.”

Tyrell smiled again.

“You’re too good,” he murmured, hands still in Elliot’s hair. 

The sound of a bell broke them out of their reverie. 

“And that would be dinner,” Tyrell said reluctantly. “Cliché, isn’t it? It has to be a bell.” 

Elliot was too nervous to appreciate the stereotype. 

“Come on,” Tyrell said softly, grabbing Elliot’s arm and walking him up towards the house. 

Upon entering the house, Elliot realized it was completely silent. No music, no sounds of cooking, nothing. It was eerie; it felt like something was crawling underneath Elliot’s skin.

“My parents must already be in the dining room,” Tyrell said, leading them in that general direction. 

Once they reached the door, Tyrell pulled them to a halt and dropped their hands. 

“Let me do all the talking,” Tyrell whispered. “It’ll be easier.”

Elliot was definitely not going to fight him on that one. 

“Tyrell, is that you?” a female voice came from inside the room.

That was apparently their cue. Slowly, they both made their way into the room, giving Elliot time to take everything in. Carter Wellick, of course, was at the head of the table, sitting straight without emotion. His wife sat at the other end of the long table, just as emotionless but more approachable than her husband. 

“Tyrell, darling,” his mother greeted, false sincerity evident in her voice. “We had no idea we were having a guest over.”

Elliot looked over to Tyrell, alarmed. They didn’t know he was going to be here? That meant that they knew nothing about the reason why he was here in the first place. Crap. Why did Tyrell does this? 

“Last minute plans,” Tyrell lied. “You both remember Elliot right?”

“Of course!” his mother replied. It was clear that she had no idea who he was. Carter Wellick didn’t say a word. 

Tyrell motioned for Elliot to take the seat closest to the door while he walked around to the other side of the table so they were seated across from each other. There was a moment of silence until suddenly a group of cooks rushed in, setting the table quickly and then leaving.

The silence remained after the cooks left and seemed to consume the room. Elliot felt like he should say or do something but had no clue where to start. 

“So,” Sharon Wellick’s chipper voice broke the silence. “It’s lovely to meet one of Tyrell’s friends. We haven’t met many of his friends from school, have we, Carter?”

It was evident that she was trying way too hard. 

“Right,” Carter replied absent-mindedly, glaring at Elliot. 

There was another drop of silence. 

“I received a message from the Knowles today,” Sharon continued, “Their youngest daughter is interested in our proposal.”

It was then that Carter finally had something to say.

“Excellent. Their daughter is very beautiful and their company is thriving. It’s an ideal match.”

“Dad,” Tyrell tried to interrupt. 

“And they just renovated their house!” Sharon inserted with false excitement. “They are going to build a fountain as well as a swimming pool, and…”

“I can’t date her,” Tyrell interrupted again, louder this time. 

Sharon’s rambling stopped, and all of them looked towards Tyrell.

“You don’t mean that honey,” his mom said sweetly. “I know their family is intimidating…”

“I said I can’t,” Tyrell said even louder, determinant clear in his voice. 

“And why not?” his father asked coldly.

“I’m with someone,” Tyrell replied honestly. 

Sharon’s face lit up.

“Oh! Who is she? Is she the mayor’s daughter you met last month? You seemed so smitten with her…”

“No, mother. It’s not her,” Tyrell said exasperatedly. “In fact, it isn’t a her at all.”

Tyrell’s mom let out a laugh.

“What is that supposed to mean? You sound ridiculous.”

Carter Wellick didn’t seem as amused. 

“I’m with a man,” Tyrell stated bluntly.

There was silence. 

“I’m sorry what?” his mom giggled. 

“I’m in a relationship. With a man,” Tyrell said slowly as if talking to a child. 

Sharon immediately sobered up.

“Well,” she started.

“Unacceptable,” Carter interrupted, looking foolish. “I thought we got this out of you the minute you left that boarding school.”

He looked at Elliot and comprehension showed on his face. 

“This is him, isn’t it?” he said, sounding outraged. “That is why he’s here.”

Tyrell looked at Elliot and that was the only sign he needed. Carter stood up. 

“Unbelievable. I do all of this for you, get you connections, dates, hell, even my company. All I ask is that you find a nice girl, and now I find out you’re a fairy?”

“Carter, calm down,” his wife said quietly. 

His head swiveled. 

“Calm down? Calm down?” he yelled angrily. “My son is a perversion!”

Tyrell finally lost it.

“A perversion? You think I’m a perversion?” he sounded murderous. “Your own wife is fucking another woman!”

Sharon looked stricken. Meanwhile, Carter just looked shocked but recovered quickly. He didn't want to be seen as the oblivious fool who didn't have control of his wife.

“You chose him?” Carter yelled, now seeing that all of this was a hopeless cause. “If you have to be this way, why this pathetic thing?” 

Elliot sat straight in his chair, terrified. 

“You could have at least been a playboy, stripper, or the boyfriend English royalty. That would give the company something to work with. Instead, you bring this thing that will never amount to anything in his life!”

Sadly, enough, Elliot couldn’t really argue with that. Carter had a point. Tyrell, on the other hand, became red in the face. Slowly, with purpose, he walked over to his father’s seat, standing incredibly close to him.

“He’s mine. You do not get to talk about him that way,” Tyrell said murderously, voice lowered to a venomous whisper. 

Now it was Carter’s turn to look stricken.

“Now,” Tyrell said, anger carefully placed back under his mask. “Elliot and I are leaving. We’ll get dinner somewhere. This has proven to be… not to our tastes if you will.”

Looking over at Sharon, Elliot found that even she was looking afraid of her own son.

“If you think I’m going to let you-“his father started angrily. 

“We are going to leave,” Tyrell repeated dangerously. “Unless of course you want your secrets spilled out online?”

Carter’s face went white.

“That’s right. Elliot here is a bit of a genius with the internet and is happy to expose the scandals you’ve both been in. So, both of you let us leave, and you never make me date a girl ever again. Good?”

Sharon quickly nodded, and Carter's silence was taken as an agreement. 

“Great. I’m so glad you approve,” he said as he moved towards Elliot. Grabbing his hand, Tyrell quickly brought to his lips to it in a show of affection. 

“Let’s go,” he murmured against Elliot’s skin. 

He quickly backed them out of the dining room, out of the house, and into a waiting escalade. 

Elliot looked over to Tyrell whose anger seemed to still be in check but barely. He appeared to be shaking. What the hell had just happened?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are getting real. I still want to explore possessive Tyrell so please indulge me. This chapter stressed me the heck out to write. Hope you all enjoyed. Kudos, comment, or do whatever you want as always. I love everything and anything you all do so...


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Umm.. hi??? Don't be mad at me please. I know it's been a month (and a long one at that), and your comments have all been so lovely. I hate that's it has been so long. My only excuse is that I was at a bad place for a while and just needed to focus on some things. I'm really so sorry. For those of you sticking with the story, I love you. The support for this story is honestly so great. Just thank you, thank you, thank you. The story will continue. Please, kudos or comment. I love hearing anything and everything from you all. Sorry about the wacky updates, but I hope you like the chapter regardless. 
> 
> Get ready for pain.

“You should not have been there,” Tyrell broke the silence as the car continued to move to its unknown destination. “I shouldn’t have gotten you involved.”

Elliot quietly agreed but understood why Tyrell took him there. It would have happened at some point anyway. It was better to get it done quick and early. 

“Sometimes I imagine strangling them. Is that strange?” Tyrell changed the topic, voice empty of emotion. “I feel guilty after imagining it of course, but while thinking about it… wrapping my hands around their throats, cutting them off from life… I feel wonder.”

Elliott tried not to show his alarm. Tyrell had basically just told him that he had murderous impulses. At the same time, Elliot was oddly calm. Tyrell, while he had no control over anything around him, was in control of himself. The carefully laid out mask, Elliot had discovered, was more important to Tyrell than divulging his odd impulses. Elliot figured he should run while he could, but it was far too late for that. 

The rest of the ride pasted in comfortable silence. When the car finally stopped, Elliot looked up and was surprised to find that they were at Elliot’s house. No lights were on, and everyone seemed to be gone. Even Elliot’s mom, who never saw the light of day, was out. 

Elliot turned to Tyrell.

“Thank you,” Elliot said, unsure what exactly he was thankful for.

Tyrell let out a slightly hysteric laugh.

“You want to thank me for that mess?” he said bitterly, an expression of self-loathing covering his face.

Elliot felt hopeless.

“I… umm...” he started, unsure about how to proceed. “Do you want to come in, I guess?”

Tyrell’s head snapped up. 

“Not for… not for anything like that,” he hurriedly added although he was pretty sure Tyrell knew what he was getting at.

Tyrell smiled softly. 

“Sure,” he said, his expression of hatred falling off his face. He spoke a couple of words to the driver and followed Elliot out of the car, walking slowly up to the house.

“My parents aren’t home,” Elliot clarified. He wasn’t sure Tyrell would even care, but he figured it was worth mentioning. 

Elliot walked Tyrell into the kitchen. He had no idea what to do now. Shit. He hadn’t thought this through. Did Tyrell want to watch a movie? Did he even like movies? Should Elliot say something? Yeah, he should say something.

“Do you want anything to eat?” Elliot blurted into the silence. After it came out, he felt like he wanted to smack himself on the head. 

“I’m not really hungry,” Tyrell answered. 

Elliot looked up from his shirt sleeves at Tyrell’s tone. Seeing him in the dim light of the kitchen, Elliot realized how exhausted the other boy looked. Elliot was about to speak again, but Tyrell beat him to it.

“Do you mind if we lie down?” he asked.

Elliot’s brain got caught on the “we”, but he managed to nod his head. He didn’t know if it was too presumptuous to lead Tyrell to his bed, but there was no other place to lie down. He didn’t want to chance any of his family members founding this out right now. 

When they got to his room, Elliot figured it would be best to give Tyrell something to wear other than his tux. With a pang of disappointment, he realized this was probably the time to give Tyrell’ sweater back. Elliot had gotten so use to wearing it that it almost felt like he was giving part of himself away when he handed it to Tyrell. 

Tyrell looked at the fabric curiously when Elliot held it out to him. When he finally realized what it was, he smiled slightly. 

“Oh, you can keep that,” he said, not taking the sweater. “It looked better on you.”

Elliot felt relief at hearing he could keep the sweater. However, this left the problem of finding something else for Tyrell to wear. Searching his drawers, Elliot eventually found a loose long sleeved shirt and sweatpants. Their quality was almost appallingly different to that of Tyrell’s clothing, but Elliot tried not to be embarrassed.

Tyrell changed into the clothes without comment, and Elliot did the same. After he was done, Tyrell made his way to Elliot’s bed, setting himself under the blankets. Elliot followed but slower and more hesitant. Elliot turned off the lights on the way, drawing out the time it took to get to the bef. Cautiously, he placed himself next to Tyrell, leaving space in between them in case Tyrell wanted it. Obviously, he did not want it because, within two seconds, Elliot found himself pulled up against Tyrell, head cradle in the other boy’s collarbone. Tyrell let out a sigh, and they just laid in silence. After a while, Tyrell spoke. 

“Can I kiss you?” he asked into the darkness, sounding almost desperate but not nervous. 

Elliot lifted his head up and nodded against Tyrell’s chest. Taking the sign, Tyrell softly grabbed Elliot’s face and cradled it in his hands. After a minute of blindly staring at Elliot’s face, Tyrell swooped in. Elliot realized that this was only the second kiss they had had. Allowing Tyrell to take the lead, Elliot followed along, molding his body to how Tyrell wanted it.

After a few minutes, Tyrell pulled away. Wrapping his arms tightly around Elliot’s waist, he pulled him even closer and buried his head in the fabric covering Elliot’s back. After a few minutes, Elliot felt Tyrell relax and drift off to sleep. Soon, he lost himself as well in the rhythm of Tyrell’s breathing, lulled into a deep sleep.

*****************************************************

The sound of loud banging woke Elliot up. Looking at the clock on his phone, he realized that Tyrell had spent the whole night over. That wasn’t supposed to happen. 

Another bang came from the hallway. What the hell…

A loud knock on Elliot’s door disrupted his thoughts. 

“Elliot, let me in.”

Shit. What did his mother want? He glanced at the still sleeping form of Tyrell. He quickly leaned over and jostled him.

“Tyrell,” he whispered, frantically trying to get the other boy up. 

“Wha’s wrong?” Tyrell slurred, voice filled with sleep and hair completely disheveled. Elliot took a second to admire the vulnerability of Tyrell at this before helping him up.

“You need to get in here,” Elliot said urgently, hoping his seriousness could be heard in his voice. 

“What? Why are you pushing me into a bathroom?” Tyrell asked, still not quite awake. 

Elliot didn’t answer him and pushed Tyrell inside as the door knob turned. 

“The door is locked. Why is the door locked?” came his mother’s slurred voice. Great. She had been drinking again. 

Elliot quickly rushed towards the door, unlocked it, and hurriedly opened it only to be met with a cloud of smoke. 

Still trying to adjust to the assault on his senses, Elliot almost missed his mother talking. 

“I need money.”

What?

“What the hell do you need money for?” he asked her, both genuinely curious and trying to stop her from searching his room. 

“I’m behind on payments. I need it,” she repeated deliriously. She was probably talking about drugs. 

“I don’t have any,” Elliot replied honestly. He had given her all he had last time. 

“I know you have some. You always have some,” she mumbled incoherently, trying to stumble her way around Elliot. 

Fearing for Tyrell, Elliot blocked her, standing in the middle of his doorway. 

“I don’t have any,” he repeated. “Ask Darlene.”

His mother made an aggravated sound. 

“She’s not here right now,” she slurred. “Give me the money.”

She tried to make another attempt at bypassing Elliot, but he held his ground. Big mistake. Enraged, she grabbed her cigarette and brought it down onto Elliot’s bare forearm. His mind screamed in pain. Fortunately, his brain was able to only let an audible hiss of pain betray his body. Struggling and suffering only seemed to motivate his mother in times like this.

After thirty seconds, his mother removed the cigarette, leaving a new purple blemish. 

“Worthless,” she muttered. “Absolutely worthless.”

Elliot couldn’t fault her there. Luckily, she decided to take Elliot’s silence as a queue to leave, abandoning her search for money. Elliot still felt the numbing pain on his arm but overall felt relief. Tyrell was safe.

He quietly pulled his door closed.

“Elliot? What happened?” Tyrell asked as he made his way out of the bathroom, still looking vaguely sleepy but more alert. 

He glanced down at Elliot’s arm. Elliot could tell the exact moment when he realized what happened. Tyrell’s face grew red, fists becoming clenched at his sides. His eyes became stormy and cold. He slowly made his way over to Elliot.

“She did this to you?” he asked in confirmation, waiting for Elliot’s reply. 

Elliot nodded, and it’s like a switch turned on. 

Tyrell turned murderous. He turns to the nearest object which turned out to be a lamp and smacks it down to the ground. Elliot jumps in shock, unsure that that had just happened.

Tyrell looked up at Elliot’s flinch. His face immediately softened as he walked closer to Elliot. 

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” He repeated the phrase until he had wrapped Elliot in his arms, mindful not to touch the fresh burn mark. Elliot could feel Tyrell shaking.

“I didn’t mean to lose control. I’m sorry,” he started again. “But how could she do that to you? She hurt you.”

Elliot nodded against Tyrell, showing he understood. 

Tyrell pulled away from Elliot and grabbed his burned arm instead. 

“She shouldn't be able to do this. She has not right to do this,” he said quietly, sounding eerily calm compared to his earlier outburst. 

Elliot stayed silent. 

“I can give your mom money,” Tyrell suddenly said. “I can give her all the money she needs so that she’ll never come asking again.”

Elliot knew the idea was ludicrous and had a feeling Tyrell did too. If it wasn’t money, it was going to be something else. She would always come back. 

“I just want to lie down,” Elliot said after a moment, not addressing Tyrell’s offer. 

Tyrell nodded and gently led Elliot over to the bed and wrapped them both in a spare blanket.

Elliot's body finally began reacting to the pain his mind finally submitting to the comfort of unconsciousness. 

"No one will ever hurt you again," he heard Tyrell mumbled into his neck just before Elliot passed out. Elliot figured he should do something about that, but he was just too tired. 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, are any of you still here?
> 
> If so, thank you, and I'm so so so sorry. I promise this story is NOT abandoned. I've still been mentally unwell, but after a long break and not getting better, I just decided to screw it and post another chapter. Depression, to put it plainly, is a bitch. I don't really know if anyone is still interested in this story so please please comment and let me know. I'm planning to keep on going with this story regularly as of now, but I'm just not sure if there's anyone interested if you know what I mean. 
> 
> If you are here, this chapter is a bit of a reward and an escape before the drama and angst of season 3 begins. I have dubbed this chapter "soft boys with little plot". 
> 
> Please enjoy, and leave any feedback if you wish. The direction of this fic, if continued, is wide open so it would be great to hear what you'd like to see more of.

It had been a month since “the incident” as Elliot liked to call it. Thankfully, his mother had been either passed out or loopy for the past few weeks, unable to ask for money again. Knowing her, she probably forgot she hit Elliot altogether because she was so far from sober.

Tyrell, meanwhile, didn’t forget. In fact, he remained livid for weeks. Every time Elliot saw him, Tyrell insisted Elliot show him his arms, careful to examine them for any cigarette burns or any other signs of harm. Every night, he would also send Elliot texts to check in and to make sure nothing happened. While others may have viewed this as controlling or extremely possessive, Elliot found it comforting. It was the only reassurance he had that someone cared about what happened to him. 

In terms of their relationship, Elliot was still slightly confused. Tyrell kissed him occasionally, and Elliot continued to wear his sweaters, but nothing more happened. And Elliot was okay with that. More than okay with it actually. Of course, his comfort had to be ruined. 

It started with Angela, his childhood friend, in the library. 

“Ollie, it’s our anniversary,” she whispered angrily to her boyfriend who was dozing off. Elliot had been waiting for Tyrell to show up so he found himself listening in to their conversation. 

“What now?” Ollie mumbled, clearly not paying attention.

“Ollie,” Angela said sharply, finally snapping. “Anniversary. Three years since we got together?”

“Right, right,” Ollie quickly nodded, still appearing half asleep. “Um… and you want to?”

“A date,” Angela replied angrily. “And not at that western place you decided to take me to last year. Actually try this time.”

It happened again with Darlene. 

Elliot had been hacking into his biology teacher’s email when she and her boyfriend began arguing in the hall. 

“Are you ashamed of me?” Darlene shrieked. 

“What the… babe. No, of course not,” Cisco soothed. “Why would you think that?”

“You never take me anywhere,” Darlene whined, weirdly unlike herself. “If you don’t want to be seen with me by your friends I get it but…”

Elliot tuned out the rest of their unnatural conversation in order to think. Was it weird that he and Tyrell had never been on a date? He didn’t even know if they could be considered boyfriends, but was that what Tyrell wanted? Oh god. Was that what he had been trying to do the whole time and Elliott hadn’t noticed? His thoughts began to spiral down from there.

Did Tyrell want to go on dates or was Elliot supposed to be the one asking him? What did people even do on dates? Then, if Tyrell did want dates, did he also want… God Elliot couldn’t even say it. How lame was he? Elliot knew he wasn’t great with social situations, but could he have really missed that much? 

Elliot felt a rush of guilt. How was he suppose to handle this? He should talk Tyrell, right? How would he even bring this up?

These thoughts consumed his thoughts for the rest of the day. Objectively, Elliot knew that the whole thing was trivial. It was simply the feeling that he owed something to Tyrell that bothered him. Tyrell had been there to protect, comfort, and care for Elliot but what had he done in return? He couldn’t think of anything, making him feel worse. Was Tyrell even getting anything out of this? He doubted it. 

*******************

Elliott finally got the guts to talk to Tyrell after school. He found him smoking a cigarette up against the usual black escapade. Upon noticing Elliot, he smiled slightly. 

“Hey,” he greeted, artfully blowing smoke into the air. He attempted to hold his hand out to Elliot, but Elliot shrunk back. Tyrell immediately frowned. 

“Did someone hurt you?” he asked immediately, dropping the cigarette to the floor and stepping closer to him. 

Elliot shook his head quickly, trying to figure out how to explain what he was concerned about. Tyrell visibly relaxed but looked at Elliot with concern. 

“Do you want to go on a date?” Elliot suddenly blurted out. 

Tyrell’s eyes went wide. 

Elliot immediately tried to take it back. 

“I mean, I just never thought to ask you and I didn’t know...” Elliot began to ramble, taking Tyrell’s response to be negative. 

“No, you’re fine,” Tyrell hurriedly reassured him. He stayed silent after that. 

“Then..” Elliot prompted quietly, the silence making him anxious. 

Tyrell looked thoughtful.

“Honestly, I didn’t think we really had to.”

Elliot looked at him, confused. Is this not even what he thought it was?

“I like you, Elliot,” Tyrell began. “You know I do. To me, that doesn’t need to be said through fancy dinners and forced conversation. Plus, excuse me for assuming, but I figured that dates just weren't your thing”

He looked back at Elliot. 

“Unless that’s what you want which is completely fine…” Tyrell continued politely. 

Elliot hurriedly shook his head. He was incredibly relieved. There would be no stilted conversation, awkward eating, or pressure to dress up. 

It was Tyrell’s turn to look confused. 

“If you didn’t want to, why did you bring it up?” he asked curiously, wanting to know what was going on in the other boy’s head. 

There was a long moment of silence. 

“What do you want from me?” Elliot asked in one breathe, desperate to get the thought out and relieve his anxiety. 

Tyrell frowned.

“Want from you?” Tyrell wondered aloud. After a moment, comprehension appeared on his face. “You mean, out of this?” He asked, gesturing between the two of them. 

Elliot nodded. Tyrell sighed softly in response, leaning in closer to look at the other boy closely. Noticing that Elliot’s eyes were staring at the floor in embarrassment, Tyrell lightly put his index finger under his chin and moved his eyes to meet his own. 

“Elliot,” Tyrell started quietly. “The only thing I want is you. I don’t need anything from you.”

Elliot hesitantly nodded again but clearly didn’t understand. 

Moving even closer, Tyrell slid in about an inch from Elliot’s face. Slowly reaching out, he softly held the other boy's face in both hands.

“Do I look like someone who doesn't get what they want?” Tyrell asked honestly. 

Elliot shook his head. Tyrell clearly had no problem expressing his unhappiness or dissatisfaction when his desires were out of his reach. Rumour had it that he even broke a vase when a girl once rejected his advances. 

“I get what I want by just being with you, Elliot. I don’t need anything else. Everything else depends on your happiness,” Tyrell explained honestly, looking at Elliot intently to make sure he understood.

“Ok,” Elliot breathed, unsure of what to say in response to something like that. 

Tyrell moved in and softly placed a kiss on Elliot’s temple. 

“You’re all I want and could ever want,” he murmured against his head, lips brushing lightly against skin. 

Elliot was left dumbfounded. Unsure of what action to take, he decided on what seemed to be the best but most nerve-racking option. Leaning forward slightly, he turned his face toward Tyrell and gently angled his lips to those right above him. 

Tyrell let out a small exhale hale of surprise as their lips touched. This was the first serious sign of affection that Elliot had initiated. Their lips remained connected for a few seconds and their bodies stayed still until Elliot took a slight step back. 

“We should probably..” he quietly trailed off, gesturing towards the car. Tyrell had asked him yesterday if he wanted to go to one of their houses after school. 

Tyrell slowly nodded, still looking slightly shocked by what had just occurred. After a moment, he visibly shook himself back into reality. 

“Of course,” he replied out loud after a few seconds, slightly more composed. Reaching out his hand, Tyrell grabbed Elliot’s own and slightly pulled him in the direction of the car. 

It would all be okay.

Right??

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So??? This chapter was a little short because I'm still unsure about everything. 
> 
> Comment or whatever you wish!
> 
> Also a reminder: I have no beta. If there are mistakes, sorry in advance.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For all the people reading, thank you thank you thank you. I'm still surprised that some of you are here and am extremely grateful. Thank you for your endless patience and nice comments. I was iffy about this chapter. I still don't really know what I am doing so any feedback/suggesting/anything is appreciated. In this time of Tyrelliot uncertainty, we need the safe haven of fanfic now more than ever. 
> 
> Comment/kudos if you wish, and I hope that this slightly gives you angst without overkill.

Elliot felt much more stable after their conversation cleared up a few things, but he still felt slightly wary about the whole relationship thing. Everything had been pretty good so far, and no relationships went this well when Elliot was involved. 

“What’s up with that Tyrell kid?”

Elliot jumped. He had just entered the kitchen to get a glass of water, but of course found himself ambushed by Darlene. The world seemed to have a constant vendetta against him. 

“Elliot, I know you heard me,” she insisted with annoyed tone, tapping her obnoxiously long nails against the marble counter. It was clear she had no patience. 

“Why do you want to know?” he decided on awkwardly saying, drawing the attention back to his sister.

Darlene sighed. 

“Really? He drives you home from school almost every day and sits with you at lunch. I can be dumb, but this all seems pretty obvious to me.”

Elliot looks at her blankly. 

“Look,” his sister starts, jumping down from the kitchen counter where she had propped herself up. “What you do is your business. Who you do is your business – I don’t care. I’m just worried.”

“Worried?” Elliot repeated, confused by the concern.

“Elliot, his family’s pretty toxic. I know you’re dealing with your own stuff right now and I just don’t… I don’t want his stuff to somehow make you worse.”

Elliot was still confused by the point she was making but nodded none the less. Tyrell’s family was certainly horrible but that didn’t mean Tyrell was himself. 

Darlene looked relieved that he was appearing to listen and took a step towards the kitchen door. Right as she was about to leave, she looked Elliot up and down. She snorted. 

“Nice sweater,” she sang knowingly. 

Elliot’s face went slightly pink. The one he was wearing was obviously Tyrell’s as it was a size too big and made from expensive material. Elliot had been wearing it around so much that he had forgotten it wasn’t his to begin with. 

***********************  
Though he didn’t take what Darlene said to heart, Elliot began to look a bit closer at Tyrell. For the last few weeks, he had been so anxious and focused on what they were (as pathetic as that sounds) that he hadn’t really been observing Tyrell as he normally had. His stomach panged with guilt. Had he missed anything? Oh god. What if he did, and it was important?

He tried to hack Tyrell during second period but found all of Tyrell’s passwords and accounts were under a second layer of security. Not that Elliot had any problem getting past them, but it was strange that Tyrell put them up in the first place. When Elliot glazed over the stuff he found, there was nothing noteworthy or suggesting that Tyrell wasn’t okay. If he didn’t have anything to hide, then why? Elliot needed answers, or he was going to go crazy. 

He began to get his answers on Monday morning when school began. 

Tyrell and his driver picked him up as they normally did, allowing Elliot to subtly look him over as he got in. His hair and clothes seemed normal, but once Elliot saw his face, the cracks began to show. Dark bruises sat under his eyes, appearing even more prominent because of his pale skin. The collar of his shirt was slightly askew and his fingernails, normally obsessively taken care of, appeared to be bitten down. Before Elliot could make any more observations, Tyrell pulled Elliot towards him into a hug.

Placing his head near Elliot’s collarbone, Tyrell breathed deeply as he tightly wrapped his arms around.

“Hey,” he breathed out, letting a puff of air hit Elliot’s neck. 

After a moment of holding Elliot in silence, he pulled back and regained some of his typical composure. 

“Everything okay?” Elliot ventured to ask, attempting to show his concern without being overwhelming. 

Tyrell gave him a tired smile and nodded but didn’t verbally reply. The rest of the ride was spent in silence which Elliot would normally enjoy but now found uncomfortable. Once they got out, Tyrell quickly placed a chaste kiss on Elliot’s temple before going in the opposite direction. Okay, something was defiantly wrong. On an average day, Tyrell would walk Elliot to both his locker and first period. He never simply walked off alone before. This was new, and Elliot didn’t like it. 

Class and lunch with Tyrell didn’t give him any other clues. It was like this morning never happened, and everything was somehow on track again. Elliot didn’t trust this, but he did trust Tyrell. If this were anyone else, Elliot would think that they hated him or simply didn’t need him. Tyrell, however, was different. Elliot knew that he had an extreme amount of pride but that if he truly wanted or needed something, he would say something. People like Tyrell couldn’t hold things in for long; if they did, they would break. Elliot was already beginning to see the cracks in Tyrell so it was only a matter of time.

************  
That time ended up being slightly sooner than Elliot thought. It was Wednesday, and everything had pretty much remained the same until about 2 am that night. 

Elliot had still been up, mind racing with aimless thoughts. His phone ringing shocked him out of his mindless state, not comprehending reality until he saw Tyrell was the caller. Tyrell usually kept their calling to a minimum because he knew Elliot hated talking on the phone. 

Elliot picked up the phone quickly and fumbled to answer. The sound of heaving breathing greeted him.

“Tyrell?” Elliot greeted cautiously, still considering the thought that this call was an accident.

The breathing on the other end of the line grew slightly heavier, but there was no verbal response for about a minute. 

“I need you,” Tyrell’s voice finally said, cracking slightly at the end of the phrase.

Elliot’s heart stopped. 

“Where…” he started. 

“About a block from your house,” Tyrell hurriedly interrupted, knowing what Elliot was going to say. “The tree with yours and Darlene’s initials.”  


He had shown Tyrell the tree once when driving past. When he and Darlene where around five, they carved their EA and DA on the tree trunk, convinced that they were somehow deviants and defying society. 

“Okay,” Elliot said, getting ready to hang up the phone and quietly rush out of the house. As if knowing what he was about to do, Tyrell stopped him.

“Please don’t hang up,” he pleaded, completely unlike himself. This more than anything alarmed Elliot. 

Elliot hummed in assent, attempting to hide his concern while simultaneously finding his hoodie. He expected to talk or ask him to say something, but only the continued sound of breathing sat between them. Sneaking past the bedrooms and out the door, Elliot thanked his mother for the first time. She never had believed in security alarms for some reason so getting out was simple.

Once he was outside, Elliot tried to go as fast as he could. He tried not to think about what could have happened to Tyrell. The breathing on the phone remained so Elliot knew he was at least alive but that didn’t provide much comfort. There were probably very few things that could tear Tyrell from the world without his consent.

When Elliot finally reached the tree, it took him a minute to spot Tyrell. Everything was pitch black and almost unrecognizable, but he eventually spotted the soft light of a phone that signaled the other boy’s presence. Elliot went ahead and turned his phone off and slowly approached Tyrell, lightly tapping his shoulder once he was in reach.

Jerking with surprise, Tyrell seemed shocked by his arrival but immediately launched himself at Elliot, latching on to his waist. Shocked and now even more concerned, Elliot allowed himself to be held in silence until the other boy let him go. When Tyrell eventually let go and stepped slightly into the path of a street lamp, Elliot audibly gasped. 

Crimson blood was splattered in drops on Tyrell, covering his face and staining his normally starch white shirt. When looking closer, Elliot could see small scraps and the beginning of bruises scattered around his chin and neck area as well. The strangest thing, however, had to be the blue latex gloves that covered his hands. Elliot’s first thought was that he looked like a serial killer. 

“What-“ Elliot started to say, but Tyrell beat him to it. 

“I did something,” Tyrell said quietly, nervousness breaking through his voice. At least he didn’t seem to be crying. 

“Did you kill someone?” Elliot decided to ask, putting the blunt assumption out there. 

Tyrell laughed hysterically for a moment, breaking the silence around them. 

“God no,” he assured, smiling slightly which put Elliot at ease. “Well, almost.”

Now Elliot wasn’t reassured. 

“My dad’s been… unhappy with me. Ever since that dinner with you, he’s been on my ass about the company and becoming CTO,” Tyrell began angrily. “He’s been tracking my phone and reading all the stuff on my computer so I’ve had to change every account I’ve made in the last two years.”

Ah, Elliot thought. That explained the new passwords. He had been right – Tyrell wasn’t trying to hide anything from him.

“I guess he got fed up that nothing was working so he sent someone people to… make the message clear,” he said, motioning at his face. Elliot wondered what Tyrell was doing out in the first place, and how his father knew where he would be, but the time for questions would come later.

“It wasn’t that bad because the guys he sent were pathetic drunk teenagers. Of course, his son isn’t worth the effort of hiring someone professional. I was fine with taking the beating to get him off my back for a while, but one of them mentioned you. My dad probably just told them because he thought it would annoy me, but I lost it. I smashed the champagne bottles they were drinking on their heads.”

Elliot’s mind froze. He what?!

“They were going to hurt you,” Tyrell began to ramble. 

“The police…” Elliot muttered, suddenly filled with dread.

“I cleaned everything up,” Tyrell answered in response. “I always carry these gloves so I moved everything around so there’s no evidence of me being there. No one is going to believe a group of stoned and drunk teenagers.”

Elliot focused on the fact that Tyrell always kept latex gloves with him (why?) but decided that that question could also wait until later. How was Tyrell able to act so rationally after so much anger?

As if sensing Elliot’s apprehension, Tyrell drew closer to him and lowered his voice. 

“I did it for you, do you understand?” he asked insentiently, grabbing onto Elliot’s hand. “I messed up, I know. I should have been more careful, but they could have hurt you.”

Elliot nodded, signaling that he understood Tyrell’s thought process. 

“I’m glad you’re here. I need to know if you were okay,” Tyrell continued to explain, tugging on Elliot’s sweater slightly. “I will never let anything happen to you.”

Elliot was stunned by the level of sincerity but held on to Tyrell’s hand in thanks.

If Tyrell nearly killed a guy when he brought up Elliot, what would happen if someone actually threatened him?


End file.
